Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
I raise one fist. Watch your fucking mouths, dickheads, I tell them, without a word.
It works. Fucking right it does. I’m an intimidating bastard when I want to be and I know it. One of them says, “Dude, sorry,” all sheepish, and they turn away.
I refocus on Jess. She’s not usually clumsy, but the wine-a-rita is making her adorably uncoordinated. She’s in the cab now. She’s got her violin case pinned between her knees and her flip-flops have come halfway off. She yanks on the seatbelt too hard, and it gets caught in its housing, so the buckle only goes about four inches.
Every time she yanks on it, it makes her tits jiggle, like fresh vanilla pudding.
She tries once, twice, three times, and lets out a frustrated growl.
“Stupid thing.” She says then growls again.
That growl. Fuck, the places that growl would take me in my head. If I let it.
I don’t let it. Not right now. I stay focused and protective. Sam snickers in the back seat and I give him a look. Be nice. He nods, looking brotherly at the back of her head.
I take the buckle from her hand and guide it across her body, letting my forearm brush against her tits, feeling the soft coolness of her long red curls kiss my skin. I haven’t been with a woman since Sam was born. Me and his mother had a thing but that’s all it was.
A thing. Then, she was pregnant and in college and her career was more important than being a mom but no way I was going to let her give up my son to another family so I took on the task of parenting him on my own for the most part.
His mom had visitation and was around for holidays but I did the grunt work. The heavy lifting and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. As well, once I held him for the first time, I knew I’d never be with another woman unless she was ‘the one’.
And fuck almighty if that turned out to be his best friend and my best friend’s daughter.
I’m so screwed.
“Thanks, Mike,” she says in a whisper. She does nothing more than that to encourage me. But touching her, it’s like an electric shock to my system. And fuck almighty she smells good.
I’m so hard for her that my balls actually ache.
I yank myself away, pissed at my inability to control even my thoughts. I close the door and turn away, walking it off and going to my side of the truck.
But I can’t take my eyes off of her. Not even for a second. The dome light in the cab shows off her curves. And her valleys. And that tantalizing V right where her pussy meets her thighs.
Christ. I gotta knock this off. Now. Right fucking now. It’s Jess. Sam’s Jess. Our Jess. She’s like my fucking daughter.
And I’ve got no business thinking about what’s underneath those leggings. No business at all.
Jess dozes off on the ride home. I keep stealing glances at her face, lit by the dashboard lights. Fucking gorgeous. Perfect. I’m counting her freckles. Naming each one and it takes all my willpower to keep my eyes on the road.
Somehow, I pull it off. Even though I want her, I want to keep her safe even more. Sam opens her door and jostles her awake after I get the truck parked in the garage. She wakes startled and wipes her face like she’s been drooling, her eyes unfocused dreamy. “Oh my gosh. I fell asleep, didn’t I?”
“Mmmhmm,” Sam says. “And girl, you snore.”
Jess’s mouth drops open. “I do not.”
Sam nods. “Yeppers, you do. Like a fucking freight train. Right, Dad?”
Jess swings her head around to look at me. She looks totally embarrassed, and a sexy little blush creeps up her cheeks. “Mr. Hawthorne. Don’t tell me I was snoring.”
“Jess.” I grit my teeth. “If you don’t start calling me Mike we’re going to have a problem.”
The blush on her cheeks spreads down her throat and blooms on her chest. “I don’t want any trouble.” She teases biting into her bottom lip making my dick twitch. “Mike.”
"Better.” I grunt because hearing her say my name has my heart thundering as it pounds blood down low and I have to turn away to take my next breath. In truth, she was snoring. No louder than a puppy. Cute as fuck. But I’m not going to rub it in. “No, you don’t snore. He’s just giving you a hard time. Now let’s get you two some water and then you gotta get to bed.”
Sam chortles. “But officer, we’re eighteen. Both of us!”
Goddamn I love that kid. Still, though. It’s a school night for him, and I know Jess has a big tryout in a week. It pisses me off, how hard her parents push her; they held her back years ago, and then pushed her to finish high school early? That’s bad then it made it impossible for her and Sam to spend their last months of high school together. What kind of fucking nonsense. But whatever. She needs her rest—they both do—I take that seriously.