Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Molly and Anna have been spending a lot of time together,” Dad says. “They’ve been talking for hours. Molly texted me, very excited, thanking me. Anna seems desperate for a mother, and we’ve given that to her.”
“Anything from the brothers, or are you here to gloat?”
“I can’t gloat. You were right. If I wasn’t so damn selfish and I’d told Molly the truth from the start, we could’ve avoided this mess.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you going to join us for dinner? This was supposed to be a good day. There’s no reason we should let them spoil it.”
“Sure,” I reply. “Why not?”
I keep my tone as civil as I can. Dad leaves without another word. I hammer one more round on the bag and then go to the guest room and use the en suite. As the hot water blasts down on me, I can’t stop thinking of Ania, her slim legs, her small hips, the pertness of her breasts, making me feel like an animal as I imagine sucking her nipples, making her moan in that sassy way, rubbing her until she’s soaking wet for me.
My hand threatens to stray down my body, but no. No, I can’t. Fuck. I want to hammer her so badly. I want to drive into her hot, tight body, watching her beautiful face shape into pleasure, her dark hair splayed across my bed, her ballerina body bouncing up and down, sliding, gliding.
“Quiet,” I growl under my breath. “Quiet, quiet.”
But my thoughts won’t listen. It’s like my body acts on autopilot. Or is that an excuse?
Whatever. My hand’s on my rock-hard prick, and I’m stroking. Eyes shut tight, I see Ania in her ballet gear, a hole in the white leggings to reveal her glistening wetness. In the fantasy, she moans and bounces, grinding up and down, letting me dominate her. Own her. She knows I’m the only man who will ever touch her. Just me. Fuck. I’m pumping harder now.
Just me. Only me. Just me. Only me.
I bend her over, her ass aimed at me, and then she glides up and down my dick and—
Come explodes out of my dick. More and more and more of it. I imagine it flooding into her body, her eyes widening as her release grips her.
Then it’s over. I let my hand drop. My dick turns limp. A wave of guilt smashes into me. She’s too young. Too innocent. Too lost. Too broken. I have to be the mature one. I have to maintain control.
After cleaning up, I promise myself I won’t do that again. I know what a lie feels like, and this is one. I’m already tempted to do it right now. My dick’s hardening as I get dressed for dinner. I want her hand wrapped around my base so damn badly, with her lips kissing my tip. Then, after, I’d lie in bed with her, hold her, talk about everything, nothing, just talking for its own sake.
CHAPTER 16
ANIA
We eat in a small dining room, with marble statues in each corner and soft orange lights dotted around the walls. I say we eat, but I mostly nibble at the edges of my pasta. Theodore and Mom don’t seem to notice, but Aiden glances at me occasionally, his serious face tight, his eyes angry. I bet he wants to say something.
Molly and Theodore talk about a recent shopping trip. Mom jokes about being a shopaholic, but it all feels slightly forced. Maybe it’s the tension in the air, knowing I might have to leave tomorrow. I should want to go.
“She doesn’t just shop,” Theodore says, looking lovingly at my mom. After learning what happened to her—what, gulp, what my dad did to her—seeing her with such a supportive husband means the world to me. Even if this same husband might go to war with my brothers. Remind me how life got so complicated again?
“You sing too, right, Mom?” I say.
Mom’s face lights up as though she’s surprised. I’m unsure if it’s because I called her mom or because I remember what we talked about earlier. I’ll never forget a single word of my first actual conversation with my mom!
“Sometimes … alone, where no one can hear me,” she laughs. “I think it’s better that way.”
“Don’t be silly,” I say. “I think you sounded amazing.”
Theodore and Aiden snap around to stare at me, their eyes wide. Mom is suddenly looking down at the table, her cheeks turning red as if I’ve said something wrong.
“What?” I ask, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, feeling the hard wood digging into my sit bones.
“She never sings for anybody,” Theodore mutters, almost with awe in his voice, almost jealously. “In all the years we’ve known each other … how many times, dear? Once?”
“That was too much champagne,” Mom mutters.
“Nobody, Ania,” Aiden says.
“It was so beautiful,” I say, thinking back to earlier when she stood with her hand on her stomach, her angelic voice filling the room, almost a whisper to it, like she was telling me a secret. “It seemed so effortless.”