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Added: Nathaniel Lansford - Date: 10.08.2021 11:52 - Views: 41939 - Clicks: 7562

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. For the first time in forever, my lazy ass is out of bed early enough to get to work on time and then this happens. There are a lot of things I absolutely love about my new apartment. Central, close to work, close to nightclubs. Even my alarm clock. Especially my alarm clock. Moving here was a crash course in extreme parallel parking.

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Almost literally. Like, they should make a game show out of that, or something. How awesome is that? Apparently too awesome, because I angered the parking gods, horrible beings that look down from up high, just waiting to screw over a puny little ant like me. The back bumper is better, but only by like an inch or so. No idea what the schedule is. Not even totally sure where the stop is. It was just one of those things to check before moving here, knowing it was an option.

What now? Mostly, I just want to plop my ass down and cry. I can just picture Mr. Harrison now. In my day, yadda, yadda, blah, blah Not fair. At least the way I see it. Mess things up. Rip something to shreds. See if those assholes park here again. Makes-me-feel-like-a-little-girl tall.

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Not bulging, but hard. And those arms. Bet he could give a good spanking to a girl in need. I swallow and crane my neck, my gaze exploring all the way up, past his powerful shoulders and strong neck, over a chiseled jaw and a pair of full smirking lips that look made for kissing. Bright under short and spiky black hair, a hungry set of deep hazel eyes, flecked with green and brown, are crinkled in amusement.

Dazzle him with your smart reply and draw him in with your witty repartee.

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Deep and with just a little hint of scratch. God, those are amazing eyes. Stop mooning, Dawn. A delicate flower. Why would you care, right? Gimme your keys. I glance at my car, then back at him. Is he like a parking ninja or something? Reaching into my pocket, I dig them up and hold them out to him. His grin widens as he takes them.

Maybe you just need a job that lets you stay up late and sleep late. Worked for me. He stops with his hand on the roof of the car, and laughs, a bark deep in his chest. Architect, huh? The keys jingle as he finds the lock and shoves them in. The door creaks when he opens it, like it always does. Then he reaches in, finds the handle for moving the seat and pushes it back as far as it can go.

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Still, he gets the key in and starts it up. I watch with deep interest.

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He throws his thick arm over the back of the passenger seat, looks over his shoulder and pushes the gas. Is this even legal? My car stops, blocked by the other car. Maybe he just knows some clever wiggle technique.

The engine revs and the front dips a little as he steps down. My car sounds angry, frustrated, a lot like me. Then something happens. The cars move, a creaky sound like a whiny protest coming from the asshole car.

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He pushes harder, and the whiny protest grows into a panicked squeal. My hands go to my ears while I watch gleefully. Is that enough? My guardian angel lets up on the gas, shifts and drives forward until my front bumper kisses the back bumper of the other car. More revving, more pressure, more squealing, and that car moves too. Who does that? He does, I guess. Fuck, was that the hand break? Will I be responsible for this? Maybe a couple of scratches on the bumpers, but who looks at those anyway?

Just plastic. He shuts off my car and climbs out. His answering grin makes my stomach knot. Never mind forcing cars to move, can a face that handsome be legal? It deserves some saving. He tosses the keys to me, which, amazingly enough, I catch. Go me. I mean, later? Like buy you a coffee or something? Is swooning out of fashion these days? I watch him until he turns a corner and disappears. Shit, I need to hurry, not stand here and moon.

Seat, mirror, keys in the ignition. The car turns over and I get the hell out. I laugh. He really is my guardian angel. I had no idea angels were batshit insane, though. Same speed, same rhythm, same strength. He wants me to count, but I stopped to get a rise out of him.

Just the same limp-wristed stroke over and bdsm free online. The sawhorse is biting into my hip, too. Wish I was taller. At least my feet would touch the bdsm free online then. My nose itches, but my hands are bound, stretched out along the sawhorse on either side of me. Kinda stuck staring at the floor while um While Mr. Uninspired works the exact same spot on my ass, and if my hands were free, works would be in air quotes. Bet we bore them too, even with our prime spot near the center of the floor.

Other players are having more fun. Moans, screams. Yelps of pain. I see shoes. Nice legs, though. He crouches and pair of newly familiar green and brown speckled hazel eyes sparkle at me with amusement. What the hell is Gabriel doing here? Did he follow me? Toggle FullEnglishBooks. Read Book Download Book.

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Make Me: An Erotic BDSM Romance