Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
“I’ll walk away if you tell me to. I swear to you I will. But you need to say it, Jessie. You need to tell me to leave now.” I don’t recognize my voice nor the reflection of the man bouncing off the window next to Jess’s head. He died a long, long time ago. “Say it, Jessie. Tell me to walk away.”
A part of me cracks when she murmurs determinedly, “No.”
“Jess—”
“No, Caleb. If you want to walk, walk, but don’t force your decisions onto me. They’re your decisions for a reason.”
Before the words circling in my head can be spoken out loud—most particularly, the one that would say it was never my choice to be molested by the man I considered my grandfather—I grip the back of Jess’s neck and bring her mouth to mine.
Our kiss isn’t sweet. It is rough, unhinged, and so fucking urgent, I’m not surprised about the swiftness of our exchange.
Before I can register that we’re in an alleyway, much less care about the horrid scent surrounding us, Jess yanks my sweats past my ass, circles her hand around my shaft, then guides my cock toward the entrance of her pussy.
I don’t give her the chance to back out. I bury myself deep inside her with a single thrust, groaning when the heat that surrounded my finger an hour ago swamps my fleshly shaft.
The moan that slips from her mouth when I rock my hips upward to make sure she feels every inch of me spurs me on. I grip her ass in a firm hold before bouncing her on and off my cock like sex is the solution for every wrongdoing.
“Louder,” I bark out when the faintest mew seeping from Jess’s lips overtakes his breathy grunts twisting my stomach. “I want the whole block to hear you, Jessie. The whole fucking block.”
With one hand flattened on the brickwork behind Jess’s head and the other curled around her back, I drive into her on repeat, confident she has the power to drown out his taunts.
I wasn’t his good boy.
His perfect child.
I was his puppet.
His victim.
“Fucking louder, Jess. Scream. Scream my name.”
My balls pull in tight to my body, and my wish to climax races for the finish line like when she responds to my demand with, “Ohhh…”
A droplet of sweat from her brow falls onto my cheek and rolls off my chin as the sparks of orgasm brighten in her eyes. As her pussy clamps around me, announcing she is close to detonation, I adjust our position before fucking her like a madman.
My speed is unrelenting, my determination strong.
Then the ground falls out beneath me.
Jess comes, and the pleasurable shudder zapping through her body could thaw an iceberg, but the words that arrive with it freeze my hips right along with my heart.
“Oh, God.”
CHAPTER 13
JESS
As soon as my orgasm weakens from a full body shake to a dull tremor, Caleb withdraws his rapidly deflating cock, sets me onto my feet, yanks down my skirt, then leans in to press his shaky lips to the shell of my ear.
I’m expecting a barrage of dirty words, but just like my panties don’t slick with the wetness of his climax, my deviant mind is left disappointed as well.
He doesn’t tell me how good it felt taking me bare for the second time or suggest we take our public romp somewhere more secluded. He mutters five little words that fill me with anger.
“I should have walked away.”
My heart sinks to my feet when he pulls back to peer down at me. His eyes are more lost now than they were when I stumbled onto him in the alleyway.
They’re lifeless and cold just like his words when he mutters again, “I should have walked away, then all this hurt could have been avoided.”
And five seconds later, he does what he wished he had done twenty minutes ago.
He walks away.
CHAPTER 14
JESS
Groaning, I throw a scatter cushion over my face before screaming my frustration into it. Don’t get me wrong, I understand Octavia’s fascination. Channing Tatum is hot as fuck, but what does that have to do with playing “Pony” on repeat? My imagination is wondrous, but no matter how many times I try to conquer Channing shaking his ass in front of me, no amount of wishing will have him slumming it with SouthPark West girls in a rundown apartment building.
I stop screaming right around the time “Pony” begins playing for the fourth time. Although I’d rather she mix things up a little, there truly is a silver lining for every unpleasant experience.
I’m not the only one suffering through Octavia’s Magic Mike obsession. Caleb is right there next to her, either mentally or physically watching every bump and grind Channing does.
That alone is worth the torture of my eardrums.
With my mood nowhere near as dour, I grant my lungs permission to breathe by tossing off the cushion, slouching down low on my couch, then wiggling my hips to the music like I’m not a loser spending her Saturday afternoon camped in my living room, eating Twinkies by the boxload.