Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
“Holy fucking shit,” Chloe says. “I got that whole thing on camera.”
I laugh to myself, knowing that’s going to be on repeat for the rest of the night, and as I try to move around and get comfortable between the folded mattress, I realize the dildo is still suctioned to my head. “Hey! It didn’t fall off,” I announce, my words muffled by the million blankets around me.
Quick jolts rumble through the couch, and I can only assume that Chloe has finally started trying to free me, but with each quick jolt comes more laughter, followed by an alcohol induced hiccup. “Uuuhhhh. So, we have a problem.”
“Do not tell me that I’m stuck.”
“You might be stuck,” Chloe informs me. “If you weren’t such a pantry pirate, it might not be so hard to get you out.”
“A pantry pirate?” I gasp. “Are you calling me chunky?”
“Damn straight you notably nourished, buffet bandit.”
I suck in a gasp. We both know there’s nothing notably nourished about me. I’m slim and toned. I don’t even have an ass worth remembering, except for maybe Caesar. Though I’m sure he’ll remember it for different reasons.
“You better watch your back when I get out of here.”
“I wonder how long you can stay in there before you run out of oxygen.”
A stupid smile pulls at my lips, and I attempt to shake my head, but my dildo gets caught on the mattress and keeps me from moving. “It’s not like I’m suffocating. I have air. But I’d prefer more.”
“Oh, look,” she calls, momentarily forgetting about our peculiar little situation. “The Uber driver is almost here with our new bottle of cherry vodka.”
“Oooooh,” I sing, never so excited in my life. “I wonder how Caesar feels about cherry vodka. Do you think he’s a cherry vodka kind of guy?” I ask through the heavy cushions, imagining all the things he could do with cherries. Eating them. Licking them. Popping them. “I bet he gets down with those cherries.”
“Damn. I need a cherry man.”
“HEY SIRI,” I call, hoping my phone can pick up my voice from inside the sofa bed as I feel Chloe trying to break me out of my sofa prison again. “DO YOU THINK CAESAR LIKES POPPING CHERRIES?”
I hear the familiar tone of Siri waking up, and not a moment later, her robotic voice sails through the apartment. “Message sent to Caesar Di Rozé. Does Caesar like popping cherries?”
Chloe laughs as horror blasts through my chest, and my eyes widen with the realization of what I’ve done. “NO. SIRI! DON’T SEND THAT MESSAGE!”
I blow out a breath, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to explain this when my phone chimes with a new text. “Please tell me Caesar didn’t just respond to that message?” I groan before recalling that I never actually gave him my phone number. Zephyr either for that matter, yet somehow both of their contact information ended up in my phone. I suppose the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. But seriously, what is with these Di Rozé men?
“Oh, he sure as shit did.”
“What does it say?”
I hear Chloe breaking into my phone, saying my passcode out loud when she would usually just hold the screen up to my face, and then, as if on cue, more laughter comes spouting out of her. “Oh, girl. If you fuck this up with this man, I’m disowning you.”
“Why?” I say, my heart racing. “What did he say?”
Chloe clears her throat, and not a moment later, her impression of a dominant man sails through the apartment. “You know damn well that popping cherries is one of my favorite activities. However, I was under the impression that yours was well and truly popped. Unless you’re talking about that sweet ass. I’ll more than happily pop that cherry for you, hellcat.”
A grin rips across my face as I feel a wave of heat crash through my core. “Damn.”
“Dayummm,” Chloe repeats in agreement.
“HEY SIRI,” I call out again despite Chloe being more than capable of typing out a text. “TELL CAESAR; I WANT TO BE FILLED WITH SO MUCH OF YOUR DNA THAT IT CHANGES MY ANCESTRY RESULTS.”
“Message sent to Caesar Di Rozé,” Siri confirms a second later. “I want to be filled with so much of your DNA that it changes my ancestry results.”
“Thanks, Siri. You’re the best.”
Chloe chuckles a second later. “Caesar says he’s more than happy to turn you into a sweet little cream pie.”
A profound happiness spreads through my veins, and if I were to die right this very second, I’d die a happy woman. Though I’d prefer to die after the silver fox turned me into a twinkie.
“I don’t want to put a downer on your glazed donut moment, but I think we’re going to have to call for help,” Chloe says. “You’re well and truly stuck, and I’m not strong enough to break this couch apart by myself, but if I had a sledgehammer or an ax, I reckon I could get you out.”