Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Gunner’s broad arms cage me in, and his chest presses against mine as the cool hood of the car radiates through my thighs. “Bet you’d whimper like a newborn kitten if I pushed you to your knees and shoved my cock between those pretty lips and down your throat,” he breathes against my neck.
“You know, it’s a little creepy that you want a girl who sang your mother’s song to suck your dick. Talk about serious mommy issues.”
“Don’t you worry, darlin’. I won’t be calling you Mommy while I fuck you into oblivion.” His large hand grips my throat, making my panties instantly wet. “It’ll be you screaming for Daddy to make you come.”
This man’s definitely daddy material.
“Oh, God.” I lose all notion of reality as his scent overwhelms my senses.
“New rule.” He sinks his fingers into my hair, grasping my neck and pulling my lips to his. “Don't cry out for God when I’m balls deep inside you. He can’t satisfy a girl like you.”
“You’re so arrogant.”
“We’ve already established that. But it’s not God’s name I want to hear on your lips when my head is between your thighs for the first time.” His tongue does a slow drag across the seam of my mouth before he nips at my bottom lip and grabs my ass. “I want to hear ‘Yes, yes, yes! Harder, Tarzan! Tear Janes, tight little pussy apart, Tarzan.’”
“You’re delusional. You can’t tell when a woman isn’t interested.”
He barks a laugh. “Oh, Sparrow, your pussy is so wet that you need to change your panties.”
“I do not,” I lie.
He dips his head to my neck, and my stomach flutters as he places chaste kisses along my pulse point. Gunner moves his hand, easing over my belly as he dips his fingers into the front of my pants and grazes my clit. “I don’t like being lied to, darlin’. You want to take back the words, or shall I show you how wide you’ll open these sexy ass legs for me?”
I shake my head. The intensity of his words, the way they match my stubborn desires, shake every single part of my being.
“I rented a house on the lake,” I confess, equal parts terrified and exhilarated at the idea of seeing him again. At the thought of him knowing where to find me.
“The big one with the copper gates?”
I nod, unable to form words as the hard length of his dick tightens and twitches against my stomach, and his fingertips brush against my cotton-covered clit. I gulp, wondering what it would be like to take a man like him—so big, virile, and manly—into my mouth.
“How about I pick you up at sunrise?”
“Excuse me?” I haven’t seen the sun rising in what feels like…forever.
He cracks a cocky grin. “Meet you at the copper gates at sunrise, Sparrow.”
“Wait, why? And what time is sunrise?”
He’s already backing away, his cocky grin deepening and causing every raw nerve in my body to throb for him. “Trust me… The Robertson’s Roadster will let you know.”
***
Five in the fucking morning. That’s when I hear the engine rumbling off that damn roadster. Classic cars. I never understood why men love them. They’re obnoxiously loud. I attempt to muffle the roar by tossing a pillow over my head. Making noise this early in the morning should be a felony indictment. No trial, no possibility of bail, just a clear-cut jail sentence.
I was eight years old the last time I was up this early. My body sure as shit isn’t used to it. I’m usually heading to bed at this time. It’s bad enough that I couldn’t sleep last night because of the peace surrounding me. I’d rather hear sirens blaring through the night than a zillion crickets chorusing.
I was taken in by the brochure. When I first saw it, I thought this place was a haven—serene and relaxing. That Roadster and the crickets—not relaxing.
You’d be relaxed if Gunner had fucked you like a cheap whore all night.
I scream into my pillow, hating how flustered and frustrated that man makes me. From the moment he stepped into my orbit, it’s been like I’ve been aimlessly wandering in the abyss. My goals sidestepped for a hot tattooed bartender dick.
Standing under the shower two minutes later, I wash my hair and scrub my body. I’ve always loved water—it cleanses my mind and leaves me at peace. It’s the only time my brain completely shuts down and I can be myself, my thoughts uninterrupted.
I stand under the spray, letting the water scald my skin. The sting is rejuvenating, washing the garbage of my life away. My mother’s voice disappears beneath the hot spray. The pressure of ensuring she had everything she needed when she was alive melts away, along with the weight of her health care while she underwent treatment. The guilt of my father leaving her in poverty with three young children and the worry of taking care of my younger siblings so they never have to live in fear like I did.