Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
It was so fucked up, and I didn’t understand it, but no matter how angry and resentful I was, I still wanted her as close as possible.
“You’re right,” I said finally. “You got a better idea?”
I watched the expressions flit across her face. Surprise, worry, wistfulness, and finally stubbornness.
“So, we’ll stay with you while I find a job?” she asked, letting go of the door handle. “How much do you want for rent?”
“Yeah,” I replied, my lips twitching. “And I’m not takin’ money from you.”
“I—” Her mouth snapped shut, and she just looked at me. She sighed. “While my pride would really like to say that I can’t live at your house without paying rent, my sanity knows that would be a fucking godsend.”
“Good, ’cause I wouldn’t take it from you anyway.”
“And hands off, right?”
“We’re not gonna figure shit out if we’re muddyin’ the waters,” I agreed.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“We’ll stay with you for a while,” she said, nodding. She paused for a moment, looking at her hands. “Thanks, Michael.”
She reached for the door handle again, and she was halfway out of the car before I spoke.
“Even if you didn’t have Rhett,” I said, unable to let the words go unsaid. “You’d never be homeless, Em. I’d always have a place for you.”
She turned to look at me, her eyes bright and her mouth trembling. It was wild, because less than a second later, that bright-eyed look was gone and in its place was an easy smile.
“Ditto.”
She strode off toward the house, and I followed slowly behind, taking my time as I got out of the car and walked up the driveway.
Emilia had been everything I’d imagined and more. She was less muscular than she’d been before and her tits were smaller, but she was still the same girl I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Her skin was still as smooth as the satin binding on the blanket I’d carried around as a kid, and when I fucked her standing up, her heels still dug into my back in the exact same spot on my lower back. Her stomach wasn’t as flat, and she’d traded in the six-pack she’d had before for a little pooch that I guessed was a leftover from carrying Rhett, but I liked it. I took a deep breath and shook my head as I remembered how wet and snug her pussy had been—that hadn’t changed at all.
I had to stop thinking of her as a sexual partner and start thinking of her as a roommate and the mother of my kid. If I didn’t, we were going to be seriously screwed.
It didn’t matter how well-matched we were in bed—she’d taken off without a word and stayed gone for three years. She’d kept my son a secret for all that time. It was because of her that I’d missed the first two years of his life, his first steps, his first words, his first everything. I felt a very familiar rage rise up inside of me as I mentally listed all the things she’d kept from me and stopped on the porch, taking a moment to count backward from ten.
If we were going to make any kind of relationship work, it had to be a platonic one. Anything more than that was impossible. I needed to keep my dick in my pants, for fuck’s sake.
“Aren’t you cold out here?” my brother Titus asked as he opened the front door. He gave a dramatic shiver. “Looks like you were caught out in the rain.”
“Shut it, jackass,” I said, starting forward again.
“Emilia seems to have been caught in the same rain,” he said with a laugh, dodging as I tried to smack the side of his head.
“We were talkin’,” I muttered as I pushed him out of my way. He followed me into the living room like an overeager puppy.
“Really?” he said, glancing over at Emilia, who’d peeled off her sweatshirt and was crouched down kissing Rhett on the top of his head. “How’d Emilia’s shirt get turned inside out?”
“What?” Emilia said, looking down at herself as Rhett hurried back to where my mom was sitting between the couch and coffee table. “Oh, shit.”
Titus laughed loudly and ran as I grabbed for him.
“You two are never as clever as you think you are,” my mom said dryly from rearranging little wood puzzle pieces on the table in front of her. “I don’t know why you even try.”
“I must have put it on inside out this morning,” Emilia said so quietly, I almost didn’t hear her. “Whoops.”
I didn’t even speak. There was no way that I’d convince my mom we hadn’t been fooling around, not with Emilia’s face as red as a tomato.
“Get things worked out?” Mom asked, looking up at me.
“They’re gonna stay with me for a while,” I replied.