My Little Farm Girl Read Online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 113717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
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But as the days wore on, as I watched the dry cornfields fly by out the train window, that beat of hope started up again, and I said goodbye to my youth. I was fleeing the shackles of home and looking forward to my bright new future.

I didn’t meet anyone on the train, as I had been warned by my daddy over and over again not to engage anyone in conversation. So I kept my head buried in a book the whole time, until the train pulled into Penn Station.

I don’t think I’d ever seen so much movement and so many people in one place at the same time. The sights and sounds bombarded my senses at once and I looked around in amazement, probably looking like the hayseed I always thought myself to be.

Aunt Marion, as I had been told to call my benefactor, was supposed to pick me up near the waiting area, and since neither of us really knew what the other looked like, she would be holding a card with my name.

We didn’t have web cam and what not on the old computer daddy kept in his office at the farm, or it would’ve been an easy matter to Skype or any of the other things the other kids were always raving about.

But mom said the last picture aunt Marion had seen of me was as a baby, apparently that was about the last time the two women had really had any contact with each other.

Mom had settled into her life as a farm wife, while her good friend had gone on to a big time university and later, the editing chief of a major magazine. Just being in the same room with her was going to enrich my life, so I was way beyond excited.

Chapter 2

I was hot, thirsty and tired as I trudged up the stairs at the train station, my small body pressed between the other travellers that had alighted from the train.

I felt the excitement start to beat in my chest, as I took in the sights. If the train station was this fascinating, I couldn’t wait to see what the city had to offer.

I was determined to make it here no matter what it took, make my family proud of me. That was my goal.

I fought back the nausea and fear and let a little bit of the excitement through, as I watched women dressed in their fancy designer jeans carrying bags that probably cost more than I’d ever make in my life milling about on the platform.

That was a bit of an exaggeration, but maybe not too far off the mark. It was a task keeping my mouth from hanging open, and this was just the train station. I can’t imagine what the world outside looked like.

I’d been waiting ten minutes and starting to get a little nervous when there was no sign of aunt Marion. I was starting to attract attention as well and that more than anything else fed my anxiety.

You see I’m sure I stuck out like a sore thumb around here. People wouldn’t need the three ratty bags at my feet to peg me as an outsider; I looked like what I am, at least in my own mind I did anyway.

I had bright blue eyes, my best feature if you asked me, wild reddish blonde hair that curled and spiraled all over my head and down the middle of my back.

My skin was spotless because mama always made her own creams on the farm from all natural products, and they kept our skin and hair healthy. Better I think, than a lot of the store bought stuff my friends paid loads of money for.

My body was okay I guess, I didn’t have much boobs to speak of, they weren’t tiny nubs but they weren’t full like some of the other girls had been either.

My legs were too long, and I hardly had any hips to speak of. Of course it could be my height that was drawing all the eyes. At five ten, I’m considered tall for a girl, as if I don’t have enough to feel self conscious about, what with my crazy hair and my outdated second hand clothes.

With my head down I was able to avoid most of the stares which seemed to come mostly from men, but after a while I had to pick it up, how else was I going to see aunt Marion?

I glanced up at the digital clock over the schedule prompter and felt my palms begin to sweat. What if there had been a mix-up and I wasn’t expected until later, or even tomorrow?

It would be just like me to have botched things up like that. I pulled the ticket stub from my pocket to recheck it and make sure.


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