Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
And I am no closer than I was before to making her drop out. That’s what weighs heaviest on me. This would be bad enough even if I didn’t know she was the wrong girl for me, and I was the wrong guy for her. We don’t make any sense, and I can’t understand why the hell she has taken up so much room in my head.
But then there’s Dad, and his expectations. It’s not just a matter of this being wrong, of having no business being with her, fucking her, spending any time with her at all. I have a job to do. Sleeping with her is not part of that job. I’m not breaking her down by making her come, for fuck’s sake.
And now it’ll be even tougher to do what I know I have to do. Now that I’ve felt her tight walls squeezing me, heard the way she moans when she feels good, thanks to my cock. I know what her skin tastes like, what she feels like under my hands. I have to carry that with me while I go through the motions of what I know Dad expects.
Dragging my feet up the stairs to the first floor, I slow down at the sound of footsteps walking through the kitchen on the way to the back door. Dad? No—it’s a different tread, not heavy and plodding the way he walks. Now I’m curious, taking the rest of the stairs two at a time to catch the guy about to walk out onto the patio.
The sight of Dante makes me bristle. I can’t forget how pleased he looked with himself on Saturday night. And I saw the damage on Tamson’s face, too, which doesn’t help me come up with any reasons not to throw him through the glass door.
He jerks his chin at me. “Good morning. Already got in your workout?” he asks.
What a fucking genius. Nothing gets past him. “Yeah, I like to get it done early.” Then something clicks in my head. I have to play it off, though, opening the fridge to take out a bottle of water like this is a totally casual conversation. “Hey, the next time you go to the store for a pickup from Frank, I want to go with you. Maybe if he sees me again, he’ll get a little more serious, you know?”
“I was just talking to your dad, going over orders for next week. We’re not going to the store this time,” he informs me before a wicked smile starts to spread across his face—like a crocodile, or a shark spotting his next meal. “Next time, we go to the house.”
Fuck me. Obviously, this is how Dad would want to escalate things. I’m not naïve. I’m not new to the way he handles his shit. This is the first time I’ve actually cared, though. “Oh, yeah?” I ask, fighting against the tightness spreading in my chest while uncapping the bottle.
“Hey, these things happen,” he reasons with a shrug. “I just hope that cute piece of ass is home when we’re there. We might have to plan it, watch her, make sure she’s there. We could take a look at her bedroom after trashing the rest of the place, know what I mean?”
I do, and the water bottle starts to crinkle in my fist. “You want to trash her room, too?” I ask, stalling while I fight to keep myself under control.
“Yeah, right. That’s exactly what I was thinking.” He rolls his eyes, laughing, while I imagine how easy it would be to grab a knife from the block on the counter and plunge it into his chest. “I was thinking more about pinning her face down on her bed, you know? It wouldn’t take much. She’s so fucking tiny. I’d love to get a piece of that.”
It takes everything I have in me not to launch myself over the island between us and cave his fucking face in.
He’s not going to touch her. Even as I force a smile and pretend to go along with him, that’s what goes through my mind. He is not going to put a hand on her. I’ll fucking kill him if he tries.
It’s a relief when he’s gone, since the tension in the room goes with him. I waste no time going upstairs and getting into a cold shower to get my head on straight. I mean, my workout didn’t do it, but maybe this will. Something has to help. I’m fucking drowning here.
How am I supposed to do what needs to be done when I can’t stand the idea of letting anybody touch her but me? That means I’m the one who has to do all the real damage—but it means I’m the one who would have to live with myself afterward, too. How do I do that? Where do I start?