Hard Work: A House Flipping Rom Com (Cook Brothers Book 4) by BJ Harvey

Author:BJ Harvey [Harvey, BJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: BJ Harvey
Published: 2020-01-29T18:30:00+00:00

Skye

“More,” I moan, digging my forehead into the mattress. Cohen’s grip on my waist tightens as I push down against his face buried between my legs. “C’mon, Cass. Give me your cock.”

“Soon,” he mumbles against me.

I’m on my hands and knees because when I woke up with my best friend’s mouth helping himself to breakfast—me—I immediately tried to multitask and turn around to do to him what he was doing to me. Except Cohen enacted a quick flip-and-roll maneuver so fast it made my head spin, and I found myself in the position I’m in now: chest down, ass up, legs spread as wide as they can go, and Cohen controlling my hips with his big hands splayed wide.

“Co…” I cry, half scared my second orgasm in the space of five minutes might very well kill me. I decide to try the one thing I’ve learned spurs him into action every single time—begging. “Please, Co. I want to finish with you inside me.”

With one last kiss to my clit, he lifts my pelvis up, sliding out from beneath me.

Lifting my head, I push up with my arms, looking over my shoulder to find blazing brown eyes staring right back at me, his hands sliding the condom down to the base of his cock.

“You want this?” he asks, his chest still heaving, his lips and chin glistening in the dim light of his bedroom.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’ve had two already, and if you don’t wait to have the third along with me, I might have to cut you off.”

I gasp. “You can’t get enough of me.”

His gaze slides down my back, coming to a stop where I want him to be already, then his eyes lock on my face. “You’re right. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun to see who’d break first,” he says before grabbing hold of my ass, positioning himself at my entrance, then driving all the way in. “Fuuuuck. Every time. So tight. So wet. So… damn… good…” he says in a low, rough growl that could get me off without any P in V action.

Last night, we finished a twelve-hour shift and ended up grabbing dinner on the way home and just hanging out on Cohen’s couch. When I got up and said I should go upstairs, I was shut up in a variety of ways until I was so spent—and unable to walk straight—that I couldn’t fight it when Cohen pulled the covers up and told me to sleep.

But if a sleepover means waking up like this—sign me up.

“Still with me?” he rasps, rolling his hips in a spectacular party trick that has my back arching and my toes curling.

“Too much talking,” I pant. “Not enough—ahhh.” He thrusts deep, pummeling faster into me. I throw out my arms and grab the headboard, wrapping my fingers tight around the wooden slats and pushing back, giving it as good as I’m getting.

“Jesus Christ, babe. Yes… keep doing… it… ugh…” Cohen grinds out, harder and bigger inside me.

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