Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17558 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17558 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
I gave him a yes/no sort of answer because I wasn’t really sure, which I know he wasn’t too happy about, and I’m sure today he’s going to want me to make up my mind.
I look up at Titus with an expression that I’m sure looks like someone who just got caught robbing a bank.
“Need me to go?” he asks. It’s a relatively harmless question, but I can see something in his eyes that makes it seem not so harmless.
“I…it’s just this guy who used to go to my school,” I stammer.
That not-so-harmless look in his eyes vanishes instantly and is replaced by something both frightening and honestly, attractive at the same time. His right hand balls into a fist, and all the veins on his right arm instantly come to the surface. I watch as he takes a deep breath and his chest expands.
Slowly, he nods as though I’ve said something else.
“I see…”
Keeping his eyes on me, he waits, saying nothing. I feel the phone buzz in my hand again. Another text from Eric.
I can barely take the tension, but I also can’t look away. His gaze is binding.
After what feels like an eternity, he looks away, back at my bedroom door.
“I have to go,” he says. “I shouldn’t have come up here in the first place.”
A rush of emotions flood through me that I don’t even know how to process. I open my mouth to say something, but before I can, Titus is already out the door and making his way down the stairs.
I hear my father call out to him, and Titus call out in response, but the next thing I know, he’s getting into his truck and driving away.
3
Titus
Back home, I’m sitting at the table, field stripping and cleaning my AR-15. It probably doesn’t need it, but I need something to keep my mind off of my best friend’s daughter’s ridiculous physique.
With that body, she really could skip college and art altogether and just go straight to the runway for Victoria’s Secret. Of course, Dougie would never let that happen, but Lucy is the kind of girl the greatest sculptors in the history of man would have spent months carving out of marble just to preserve her beauty for all of time.
When I came home, I had to spend a few minutes on myself just so I’d be able to walk around without my bulge making it completely impossible.
I’m not used to being possessed by this level of desire. In fact, it’s completely foreign to me. Knowing that I was headed into the armed forces and very likely going to be sent overseas, I kept my distance from those of the opposite sex.
Sure, I may have had a night or two here and there, but nothing serious. I kept my true, serious desires under lock and key where they would be protected. But when my eyes landed on Lucy, that unbelievable beauty, I knew I’d lost every ounce of control I had.
How could a girl mature like that in the span of four years?
The last time I saw her, she was just a tiny, innocent little doll-like thing who was so awkward she barely even knew how to dress herself in a way that didn’t make her look like a child trying to look like an adult.
But now? Now when I was following her up those stairs to her bedroom on the way to see her artwork, watching her hips sway back and forth and her ass bounce with the perfect blend of firmness and jiggle, there was absolutely no way I could keep my mind from thinking the worst thoughts of all the things I wanted to do to her, daughter of my best friend or not.
Do I feel guilty about that? Absolutely.
Does that mean I can change how I feel about her? Absolutely not.
When she got that text from that boy…Eric or whatever…it took everything I had not to go off right then and there.
But how would that look? Me, a Marine nearly twice her age, going into a jealous rage in her bedroom with her father downstairs?
But I can say this: I don’t want her anywhere near that boy, whoever he is. I don’t care if he’s the next Bill Gates; that girl must be mine.
Beside me, my phone rings. I glance over and see Dougie on the caller ID. Part of me almost wants to ignore it, but it is my first day back, and I do want to see my best-friend, so I answer.
“Hey, pal!” he calls out enthusiastically. “The folks release you from your hostage situation yet?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I’m finished.”
“Well, get your ass back over here. I got some steaks for us to cook up and a recording of last weekend’s game.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d be pumped to head back to my buddy’s house and dive into everything he’s talking about. Even now it’s an enticing invitation. There’s only one thing that’s holding me back.