Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
“Carsynn.” Her name rumbles through the shower stall, and it’s only because I puss out and place my hand on the tile so I’m not flat on my fucking face. I come so hard, I’m seeing damn bursts of stars when I finally lift my head and open my eyes. My cum spills all over my hand, and fuck how I wish it were Carsynn’s hands, face, or tits I was painting instead of my own.
“Soon, it’ll be my little fairy in front of me,” I say quietly, stepping further under the spray, grabbing my body wash to clean off the evidence of coming all over myself. It doesn’t take my long to clean up. The way I just came and how I’ve become obsessed with Carsynn, I know my body enough that if I lingered a moment too much, my cock would be like, ‘Hell yeah, Carsynn’s involved. Let’s fucking go.’
I turn off the water, grab the towel I slung over the glass enclosure, and make quick work of drying myself off. Once I’m dry, I wrap the towel around my waist and grab my phone off the vanity. I glance at it, keeping it on me since the weather changed from bad to fucking worse. You’d think Gramps would have taken me up on my offer for him to stay with me. Nope, he didn’t do that. The old goat only asked that I chop up more wood and help him bring it inside, which is what I did, cussing him out in my head the entire time. Calling him a stubborn fool while making sure he was ready should anything happen. There were plenty of lights and extra battery packs, and the generator was ready should he need it. I’d also told him the minute he changes his mind, I’ll be on my way.
“Motherfucker.” I move the blinds in my bedroom window, looking out toward the driveway. The sun has long since set, and there the driveway sits, empty. There isn’t a sign of Carsynn’s car anywhere, and the rain is pelting down, freezing the damn concrete. My phone is in my hand. I don’t bother checking if Gramps called or texted. I’m too busy unlocking the phone and hitting his number. The only person I know who has Carsynn’s number is him. Sure, she rents the place, but Gramps currently has the paperwork at his house. A fat lot of good that’s doing me right now.
“You better not be pestering me. I told you I’m fine on my own, been doing it for too many years to count,” Gramps answers the phone with a retort. I wish it were me pestering him. Honestly, it would be a fuck of a lot easier than having to worry about a woman who’s grown and should be more than fine by herself. Tell that to my gut.
“Have you heard from Carsynn?” I ask, running my fingers through my hair while pacing, going back and forth from the doorway to the bathroom, then back to the window, where I’m hoping she’ll suddenly appear.
“No, should I have?” There’s a worry in his tone.
“She’s not home, and you see the weather outside, plus it’s dark. Would she be with Nikki or Olive?” I stop at my dresser, ripping a drawer open, grabbing a pair of sweatpants, then repeating the process for the shirt.
“Boyo, Carsynn only hangs out at the library after work, goes to the grocery store, or comes over to my place. Let me call her and see if she answers.” This isn’t boding well. I stay on the line with him. Calling the house line is a guaranteed answer. His cell phone is hit or miss. It’s well past the time since the library closed, and no way would it take her this long to grocery shop. She wasn’t home when I pulled in, and that was over an hour ago. I put the call on speakerphone, step into my sweats, then slide the shirt over my head before grabbing a pair of socks.
“Fuck, Gramps, I’m going out to find her,” I tell him. My worry is escalating as I hop on one foot then the other, trying to work as fast as I can. Carsynn’s in a little tuna can type of car, probably doesn’t have good enough tires to be scooting around on ice. And don’t get me started on the clothes. Gramps has already tried telling her she needed new shoes and a thicker coat before the weather sets in. She needs a man in her life, a man who will take care of her, to make sure she’s warm, to make sure she’s safe, and that man is damn well going to be.
“No answer,” he says after a few beats. “I’ll go out, too.” His voice is strong and steady. It’s going to take me too damn long to convince him to stay put, but I’m going to do it anyway.