Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
There’s more of an edge to my voice than I intend, and I clear my throat as I take a sip of my iced coffee to wet my mouth. Shit. Not my iced coffee. Kendall’s, which I’m still holding. I can taste the fruitiness of that very pink lipstick she’s wearing from the straw, and something hot burns inside of me before I shake it away.
Get. A. Fucking. Hold of yourself.
“It’s really fine, Mr. B. He’s a nice guy.”
I nod, swelling the numbness in the back of my throat. “I’m sure he is. You need a ride or anything? I’m going in soon myself.”
Her eyes snap to mine, and there’s a little flash of something there before she blushes and shakes her head.
“Oh, no, thanks. That’s okay. I’m just going to take the train later.”
“You sure?”
She nods.
“Right, well, you guys order dinner before Kendall leaves if you want, I’m going to—”
I’m turning, I think to finally hand Kendall her iced coffee, when suddenly, I see it. It’s the sun that does it. A cloud moves out of the way, and suddenly, the rays shine through and right into Amy and Kendall’s faces. Amy turns away from the glare, but Kendall quickly brings a hand up to shade her eyes. And that’s what does it. Her tank top rides up, and maybe they way she’s stretches pulls her bikini bottoms down just a tiny bit. But whatever it is, for one half a second, I see it.
It.
And then, it’s gone.
…But it’s not really gone. Not when I know what I saw.
“What. Is. That.”
There’s a coldness to my voice, and my head suddenly feels like it’s swimming. It’s like the air gets thinner. I try and tell myself to be reasonable. That there’s not a chance in hell that I saw what I think I just saw. That I’m just worked up about tonight, and half-hard, and just horny.
…Because there’s no fucking way I really just saw that, on Kendall.
Amy’s brows shoot up, and she grins widely.
“Oh! Shit!”
“Language!”
She ignores my tone and beams at me. “Wait, you haven’t seen it yet?” She grins at Kendall, who turns red.
“Kendall got a tattoo!”
“Show me.”
My voice is edged, icy. Broken.
Kendal stammers. “Amy, he doesn’t want to see—”
But Amy reaches out, and before her friend can stop her, she yanks up Kendall’s tank top. And suddenly, the floor drops out from under me. Because suddenly, I’m looking right at a small, tiny little tattoo on Kendall Shaw’s inner hip, right by the edge of her bikini bottoms.
A little tattoo of two cherries.
“It’s two cherries! Isn’t that cute?” Amy gushes.
Fuck. Me. Fuck fuck fuck…
Kendall goes to playful swat Amy’s hand away. But she missed, and suddenly, her hand connects with mine. The unexpected slap sends her iced coffee that I’m still holding dropping to the stone patio. The plastic cup cracks and shatters, and black iced coffee and ice cubes going splashing and skittering everywhere, including all over my jeans and the bottom of my dress shirt.
Kendall gasps, her hands flying to her mouth.
“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, Mr. B! I’m—ohmygod, I’m so—”
“It’s fine,” I say, or mumble, I’m not really sure which. The world spins, and it feels like every one of my senses is operating through a gauzy film.
“Shit,” Kendall grabs her pool towel, whirling back to dab at my shirt, but I’m just numbly shaking my head.
“It’s fine,” I say again, my tongue like lead as I turn.
“Spare shirt.” I mumble, walking like a zombie for the pool house. It’s closer than then house, and besides there being a washing machine in there, I keep a spare business wardrobe there as well.
“Just gonna grab a spare shirt.”
The words fall like bricks from my mouth as I turn, numb, and somehow stumble my way away from them, towards the pool house.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It’s Kendall. Her—the girl—my girl. The one I’ve bought. The one I’m supposed to meet in a few hours at my penthouse in the city in order to fuck her senseless for the very first time. The one who’s virginity belongs to me, is Kendall. Fucking. Shaw.
I’ve stroked my cock to her. I’ve watched her undress. I’ve watched her touch her little pussy under her panties until she soaked them through with her cum. I’ve lusted after her. And fuck me, I’ve bought her for the night, tonight.
Her date. Fucking I’m her date.
My pulse roars in my ears as I stumble into the pool house, slamming the door shut squeezing my eyes closed.
Oh, this is officially fucked up. This is very, very, very fucked up, on so many damn levels I can actually feel it in my gut, twisting like a knife. I groan, shrugging my jacket off and then yanking my coffee-stained shirt open and peeling it off as well.
So royally fucked up. And what’s even more fucked up?