Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I let her slip through my fingers once, but I’m not so sure if I’m capable of doing it again. But I don’t know if I’m able to give up everything I’ve built in order to have her. That’s a lie; I know I am. But it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow when the truth of the matter is she wouldn’t do the same. Her loyalty will always be to her family. Something I’ve never quite understood. Loyalty to myself is the only thing that has kept me alive for this long.
I listen to her breathing, my fingers trailing down to her throat and lightly squeezing. It would be so easy to solve this problem. To put us both out of our misery. My hand continues drifting down to her chest, and I rest it between her breasts, feeling the low thud of her heart under my palm. She’s so vulnerable with me, and for the first time in a long time, I can feel myself falling into a deep sleep, content with the idea of not waking up because sleeping at her side offers that risk. But she’s also the only thing that’s been able to bring me to a level of relaxation that will allow me to get any rest.
I’m conflicted. Stay awake and alert or fall asleep by her side?
The choice is taken from me as I’m pulled into a deep slumber moments later.
Loud banging and my name being called startles me awake. I grab my gun on my nightstand, but it’s not there. At first, when I can’t feel her beside me, I think she’s gone. Then I see her sitting at the end of my bed, holding the gun and staring at it curiously.
“Someone’s at the door,” she says with a sly smile, not at all explaining why she’s holding my gun and watching me while I sleep. Some might consider it creepy, but I consider it endearing.
She’s still naked, and I’m tempted to claim her all over again, my cock twitching at the sight of her perfect tits with bite marks all over them.
“Braxton!” More banging. I know that voice. Fuck me. Her timing couldn’t be any worse. I spring out of bed and throw on a pair of loose sweats.
“Did you double book your fuck buddies?” Hope asks, and there’s a dangerous glint in her eye as she points the gun in the air and squeezes the trigger. “Oops,” she says innocently, and I can’t help but laugh. Jealous indeed.
I scoop her up in my arms, even though she tries to fight me, and throw her back onto the bed, then toss the sheet over her. “Do you think I have time to double book myself when you’re such a little psycho?” I kiss her lips.
She’s trying to hide a smile as she says, “Why? We’re not anything to each other.”
It’s a daring question. “If that’s what you want to think, then fine. Now, don’t let anyone else see your body, or I’ll be the one pulling the trigger.”
She aims the gun at my head. “You’re not scared of me aiming this at your head now that I’ve got what I wanted from you?” she taunts.
I smirk over my shoulder. “Not after seeing you at shooting practice. Not a care in the world.”
She grumbles something as I walk to the door to more banging and shouting. My smile quickly drops as I mentally prepare myself to see the woman I despise most in this world.
“Mother,” I greet, my voice toneless.
Her hair looks like it needs to be brushed, and she’s wearing old clothes that are half torn and two sizes too big for her. Her pupils are dilated, and she’s skittish as she stumbles back when I appear at the door. She licks her lips, looking confused as to why she’s here.
I don’t even know how she found my address, but that’s the least of my problems now that she’s on my doorstep. She never saw me when I checked up on her, and I’ve been ignoring her calls for the last six weeks, so she must be desperate to have personally tracked me down.
I never wanted her showing up at my door, especially the way she is right now. She was hardly a mother to me when I was a child, and she’s less than a stranger to me now.
“What, you don’t want to invite your mother inside? It’s cold out here.” She hugs herself, and I notice she’s only wearing a thin sweater. The temperature has dropped significantly in the last few days, and we’re no doubt due for snow soon.
“You’re good where you are,” I growl. She doesn’t have the right to barge into my life or encroach on all I’ve built. She tries to peek over my shoulder, but I block her view.