Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
At least they no longer stood like sentinels at a wake. Still, I hate being that person who makes others uncomfortable, but Jared promised to make it up to them. I have to have a serious talk with him about throwing money at problems.
What followed was a fashion show of sorts with three women about my size and height parading in and out of the bathroom in different outfits while the two matrons, as I’d taken to calling them in my head, called out orders. Okay, my parents have money, tons of it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this shit show before. I looked at Jared like the alien nerd species that he is, but before I could say anything, he cut me off at the pass.
“I don’t shop the conventional way, and as of a few days ago, neither do you. So this ‘shit show’ is it from now on.” Dammit, I said that aloud too? Whatever, I’ll deal with that later; right now, I have to deal with this maniac and let him know in no uncertain terms that that does not work for me. And that’s how I learned that Jared does not argue.
He listened to every word I said without interruption and then went ahead and ordered what he liked without any input from me. I argued with him all the way back upstairs in the elevator. “I don’t even wear that crap.”
“Yes, I know, but my woman does not dress like a hobo.”
“You… I’ll have you know that I have a closet full of designer wear that Christine Stone has been collecting ever since I turned twelve or thirteen. Better men than you have tried.” I got the hand around the throat for that one.
“What fucking men tried to buy you clothes?” I rolled my eyes at him and got another tongue lashing about how rude that is and how much he detests it before I was allowed to speak.
“It’s a figure of speech, you nerd.”
“Oh, okay.” I rolled my eyes again, and he bit my lip, which led to dinner being cold since biting my lip is sex speak for me.
“You’re doing it again.” His voice intruded on my thoughts again, and I tried to concentrate long enough to come up with a good enough excuse to keep him away until D-day.
“Um, I can’t help it, but please, can we stick to what we planned? If you do, I’ll let you do that thing you’ve been dying to.” I wriggled my brows at him and then tried to look sultry. Now he was the one squirming in his seat. From the way he creased his brow as if giving my words some serious thought, I thought I’d won, but I forgot who I was dealing with.
“No, we’re still going to do that regardless, so that’s not a good deal for me; I can wait. What I won’t do is have my woman miles away from me another night when it’s unnecessary. Besides, this way, I can give you one of your gifts early and still not mess with your plans. I’ll send you the details tomorrow when I get to your town, so make sure you’re free.”
“Yes, daddy!”
“What did you call me?”
“Ooh, nothing, see you, bye!” I never logged off of Facetime so fast in my life. That mess is something that has been floating around in my head for a while. I have no idea where it came from, and since I know nothing about daddy kink, I didn’t quite know what to do with it.
I mentioned it to Michele once, and she said that it’s a thing which surprised me that she even knew since she’s a bigger nerd than he is. I did my own research and was fascinated but am too afraid to bring it up unless he finds it weird. I couldn’t stand it if he were turned off by me in any way, so I’ve kept it to myself, hoping it will pass.
Though the idea of being completely taken over by Jared makes me weak in the knees, I was starting to daydream about what that would be like when there was another knock on the door. I forgot how this place could be like Grand Central Station. “Come in.”
I didn’t expect it to be my brother again and was about to send him packing until I saw the look of misery on his face. Years of ingrained behavior kicked in, and I recalled all the times he’d been there for his little sister, the way we two stuck together always regardless of the age difference. It was Tom who blew on my first skinned knee and held me until mom got there to take over.
He was with dad cheering me on when I learned to ride my first bike. And he was always first in line when someone needed dealing with. Now he looks like a shell of himself, so lost and broken, and I hated Tessa even more than I did ten seconds ago.