Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
... there were TWO!
Chris and Brett are insanely huge, with broad shoulders, sculpted chests, and thick, tree-trunk thighs. Even better, they have massive axes hanging from their belts ...
... that reach all the way down to the knee!
Am I ready for this?
There’s only one way to find out ...
Misty thinks we’re mountain men, but it’s a ruse. My buddy and I are actually billionaires holed up for a specific using women’s bodies. Yeah, we’re ordering ladies from a website, and they show up for endless nights of decadent sin.
God bless the internet.
But things change when we meet Misty because she’s young and innocent ...
... with big blue eyes ...
... a sweet smile ...
... and curves that go on for days.
Needless to say, it was a wild weekend. The cabin shook on his foundations as my buddy and I took our fill ...
... but we never forgot about the innocent girl.
Because now, Misty’s back and something’s different ...
... her curves are fuller ...
... her hips more feminine ...
... and all because she had our baby in secret!
Are you f*cking kidding me?
My buddy and I were brutes before, but now, we’re utter savagery unleashed ... as we claim our secret SON!
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Misty
Ipush open the door to Liberty Bakery, and skulk across the shiny polished cement floor to wait in line before a large glass case filled with delectable pastries. Oooh, they look so yummy with their crisp, golden brown exteriors, decadent chocolate filling, and gooey, jam-filled centers. But my eyes catch sight of the price list, and I wince. Ugh, this is highway robbery! How can a single pastry cost eight dollars? That’s without tax or tip too – not that I can afford to tip.
But I have to buy something because I’m meeting my friend Jenna here, and it’s Jen who suggested the location. Still, I’m a little surprised because this place is fancy, and Jenna’s like me – a poor student. In fact, we’re probably the poorest students at Evergreen College because we both came from foster care. It’s a bit of a sad story, actually. I was left with Children’s Protective Services when I was just a tot, and have only vague memories of my biological family. They never came back to claim me, and I bounced from place to place before being placed in a group home when I was in high school.
It was as bad as you think. The center always smelled of anti-septic, with metal bunk beds, inedible food, and the oddest banging noises at night. Plus, the kids living there were just like me: unwanted, unwashed, and generally forgotten. But some of us misfits bonded despite the harsh conditions, and I even made a friend. Jenna is a sassy, funny girl, who also happens to be as smart as a whip. While some of our other foster siblings got into trouble and rebelled, we tried to avoid attention by studying hard and keeping our heads down. We took the SATs, befriended our high school guidance counselor, and tried to come off as exemplary citizens. After all, the state would only support us until age 18. Then, we’d be thrust into the real world, with nothing but our wits to keep us afloat.
Fortunately, the transition, while bumpy, wasn’t impossible. Jenna and I were both accepted to Evergreen State College with full scholarships, and there’s even a foundation that’s helping us cover housing and books. We were giddy when we got our offers, dancing around in circles while screaming with joy.
“OMG, OMG,” Jenna cried, grabbing my hands and we spun in a circle in the rec room of the group home. “This is the start to a new life!”
“New chances, new opportunities ... you’re right, because the world is our oyster!”
Dizzy with excitement and laughter, we could almost forget our problems. Almost, but not quite, because money’s always been an issue for us. Even with my scholarship and the stipend from the foundation, I’m still barely making ends meet. I have a work-study job at the science center, but it doesn’t pay much. I’ve even considered eating some of the fish food because I get so hungry sometimes.
That’s why I’m surprised Jenna chose this fancy bakery. She should be in the same leaky financial boat as me, and pinching every penny in her wallet. So what are we doing at a hipster place like this? After all, Liberty Bakery is the epitome of understated chic, with iron pendant lamps, a burnished cement floor, and simple yet sophisticated blonde wood furniture. The lighting is mellow and the baristas are dressed in matching brown sackcloth aprons, as if they’re real millers that work with flour. My guess is that they’re actually trust fund babies who are only pretending to be poor by working in a cafe. Ah, how ironic life is.
But my thoughts are interrupted by the tinkling of the chime over the door, and a blonde girl strolls in with her hair tied in a bouncy ponytail. She’s dressed in a skin-tight pink sports bra with matching pink leggings, and has a fancy gym bag slung over her shoulder with a yoga mat poking out. Not only that, but her golden highlights are obviously the work of an expensive salon, and her nails are subtly shiny and perfectly pink with the latest “glazed donut” manicure.
“Hey Misty,” she calls before bouncing over to give me a hug. “Long time no see. How’s my girl doing?”
It’s only then that I snap out of my trance. I was so busy studying the blonde’s polished presentation that I didn’t realize that it’s my friend, Jenna.
“Hey!” I exclaim, my eyes wide with shock. “I didn’t realize it was you! You look different.”
Jenna merely giggles.
“I know, it’s the highlights. I finally got so sick of my blah brown hair that I had it professionally done. Matthieu at John Barrett is an ace,” she confides in a low voice. “After having him handle my tresses, I don’t think I can go to anyone else again. I’m going to be one of those crazy ladies whose hair appointments are more important to them than food. I would rather starve than not get highlights.”