Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
He blinks at me, but my words just flow right past him like someone holding a leaf blower to his head. Unpleasant, but something he can walk away from without any long-lasting damage.
It’s not fair, but then, what does he care? Did he ever even give a shit about me?
The rage is so strong that the hurt, painful parts of me want to start throwing words at him like handfuls of poo, monkey style. All the things I was dreading Reg finding out, though they were nothing, jump straight to the forefront of my mind and then some.
And. Then. Some.
You did me a favor, almost getting me killed, because now I know your dad is a gentleman on the streets and an animal in the sheets.
Your dad is so hot that I’ve wanted to dry hump his leg ever since the first second I met him.
Even my granny thinks your dad is amazing. He took her for a ride in his awesome car.
I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but you were never able to satisfy me the way your dad has. Turns out, all I needed was a real man. Thank you for showing me what I’ve been missing all this time.
Your dad really knows how to rock a pair of grey sweats.
I’ve seen your dad slick and naked in the shower.
Go gargle a ball sack, asshole.
I’ve never had such horrible, juvenile thoughts in my life. Gargle a ball sack? Where have I even heard that before? I certainly would never say anything about Warrick. It might drive Reginald to distraction and be a sweet payback, but no amount of temporary satisfaction is worth hurting a good man.
All his life, that’s exactly what happened to him. Injustice surges up my throat like acid. I’d do anything to protect him, and it makes me feel doubly guilty for those thoughts.
Meanwhile, Reginald is still an asshole.
He hasn’t changed a whit, and he’s not sorry for anything he did. I don’t care why he’s here. I don’t even care that he’s Warrick’s son. I know Warrick wants to have a relationship with him. He has tried so hard. But this isn’t the way it’s going to happen. I won’t let Reginald in here to hurt his dad with ungrounded accusations about me being here. I won’t let his petty meanness touch a good man, especially when he’s sick and not at his best.
“Warrick isn’t here. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Reg’s face twists nastily. “You can stop milking my dad for money. Find someone else to be your sugar baby. You’re not even that pretty, Amalphia. You’re kind of pathetic, actually. Going from the son to the dad.” He makes fake gagging noises.
Dude. It’s sugar daddy.
But I’m certainly not going to point that out. Reg will only take it as confirmation.
I breathe deeply. Violence never solved anything. If I so much as flip him off, he’ll probably try and sue me. Reg is like that. He has always blamed his own shit on everyone else. Why did I ever think I could help him be a better person?
My silence only winds Reg up. He’s digging for a reaction, and he’s not going to stop until he gets one. “Getting my dad to go where I’ve already been is sickening. I never pegged him for a sloppy seconds kind of guy, but it’s clear that’s what he’s into. Subpar, lukewarm, microwaved, leftover pasta. Limp, bland, and disgusting. You’re so aimless that you’d fall right into the warms of anyone willing to let you—”
I don’t hear him coming, but I feel the way the air changes. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. It’s like a science experiment gone wrong, lethal gas creeping through the air, killing slowly but surely.
I realize why Reg suddenly cut himself off.
Warrick is standing right behind me.
Then, Warrick steps neatly in front of me and shields me with his huge body. “That’s enough, Reginald.”
Warrick’s commanding presence actually serves to silence Reg completely. My mouth goes dry behind him.
My eyes fall straight to his ass.
Oh my god, his ass in those sweats.
My mouth goes dry all over again. My eyes finally remember to blink, but they’re beyond redemption at this point. Besides, I think all the moisture is being siphoned straight down to my panties.
Every dirty line I’ve ever read in every smutlicious book floods my brain at once. I would do dirty, dirty things to Warrick’s ass—and the rest of him—if he let me. And all the not-dirty things too. Whatever he wanted. I wouldn’t just be happy to do it. I’d be honored. I’d enjoy making him feel good. His happiness would make me happy.
“Dad, I…this is…you can’t just…” Reg can’t get it going. His mouth is like a car spinning in a snowbank, going nowhere fast.