Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I’m not playing now.
“What the fuck is going on back there?” I growl, leaning my hands onto the counter to peer back into the kitchen. Rick, my oldest friend, is working late tonight, and asked me to pick up a hot meal for his daughter. I would never say no to him--and I certainly wouldn’t admit it, but I never balk at the chance to see Bailey, either. She certainly is all grown up now…
A gangly young man finally sprints to the counter, sweating visibly. “I’m so sorry, sir,” he pants.
“What were you doing back there?” I inquire. “Jerking off?”
The kid starts and blinks rapidly.
“No, sir,” he says, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. “One of the ovens broke and I’ve been back there trying to fix--”
“Honestly, I don’t give a shit,” I say, because I don’t. “Just get me a large pepperoni pizza.” The kid looks so genuinely remorseful that I soften a bit. “If you do it quickly, I’ll still give you a good tip.”
“Yes, sir.” The kid’s arm moves as if he’s about to salute. I raise a single brow, and he interrupts the action, opens and closes his mouth once, and runs back into the kitchen.
Teenagers.
Was I that much of a little shit when I was a teenager? Yes, I answer myself almost immediately, and shake my head. Many years have passed since then; it’s difficult sometimes to remember those days, when I worked just as hard, but for pennies instead of millions. I’m the oldest of four, and my mom passed away when I was fifteen. Burdened with having to look after my siblings, I developed a smart mouth and a devil-may-care attitude that irritated my father and other authority figures to no end. Thank God I wised up around the age of eighteen.
As the kid hands me my pizza--I tip him generously--I remember that Bailey recently celebrated her own eighteenth birthday. Her dad threw a party for her and her friends, while he and I drank beer and grilled burgers. I’ve been present at plenty of Bailey’s birthday parties, but this one was very different. Before, the parties were for kids, but this time, the birthday girl had me gasping.
Bailey had worn a little white sundress that hugged her every curve and left little to the imagination. As she talked with her friends, it was impossible not to notice how her smile illuminated the room, and how her laughter seized her entire body. She was so full of joy, so carefree, so--young.
Too young, I remind myself as I get into my BMW, placing the pizza on the leather passenger seat. I run a hand through my thick black hair, eyeing myself in the rearview mirror. Just as hard as I work on my business, I work on maintaining my body and health. I’m fully aware that I look damn good for my age, and am reminded of it often by the looks and smiles I receive from women passing by. Still, I’m halfway into my forties, and certainly don’t have the time or energy to waste on innocent teenage girls.
Unless, apparently, I’m their personal pizza delivery man.
As I drive to Rick’s house, I tap the steering wheel to a classic rock song on the radio. Selfishly, I hope that Bailey is excited to see me. We’ve always gotten along, ever since she was a little girl and we played hide and seek in the backyard. Now that she’s older, I admire her spunk, her sass, and the fire that ignites behind her eyes whenever she’s issued a challenge. I’ve been burned by that fire before--she’s a sweet girl, but she has a smart mouth.
I realize as I pull into the driveway that I’ve been absently daydreaming about what else her mouth can do.
No fucking way, I tell myself as I get out of the car, pizza in tow. First of all, Rick’s my best friend, meaning that his daughter is definitely off-limits. If that wasn’t enough, I’m more than twice her age. I’ve been with plenty of younger women before, and tongues have always wagged, labeling me all manner of unsavory things. Being with someone that much younger than me would brand me as some sort of pariah or pervert. The last thing I need is to wear a scarlet P.
As I approach the front door, I fish the keys out of my pocket--I have a set to Rick’s place, just as he has a set to mine. The shades are drawn over the front bay window. I wonder what Bailey is up to? I wonder if she’ll embrace me, kiss me on the cheek, let me breathe in her scent of musk and wildflowers…
I open the door and nearly drop the pizza.
What the fuck is going on?
Bailey, the girl I’ve known since she was a toddler, is on her knees, lush and nude, with her big beautiful ass facing me. For half a second, I stare at it, transfixed by this sight, which is more incredible than I could have ever dreamed. Her orbs are white and enormous, with a swollen pink slit peeping from between them.