Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure. It can be hit or miss. I’ll try, though.” My phone is currently playing a book. I take out my AirPod, and the phone takes over the scene. “It’s always the husband who kills the wife. This time, it was with a serrated kitchen knife. He stabbed her forty-seven times and is claiming self-defense,” the narrators voice echoes through the quiet office.
“Jesus, that’s not self-defense. He wanted to kill his wife. I hope he gets life in prison,” Sly jokes. I hit the pause button.
“Shh, don’t ruin the book for me with your legal jargon. I’ll try to call Dad now.” I exit out of my book, hit the call log, and scroll down until I hit the contact Sylvester needs. “Let’s see if he answers. Worst-case scenario, we can call Mom. He never not answers her. Could you imagine?” Mom didn’t make Dad sleep on the couch last night. Whether that was because she didn’t want him to ruin her nice furniture or because Dad relented, only leaving a light bruise along Sylvester’s jawline, I don’t know. I’m still not too happy to see it, and he did his best in making sure I forgot about it by peeling out of my parents’ place and finding the first available alley, backing his SUV in at a dead end. I didn’t have to be asked or told what to do. My seatbelt was off, and Sly was sliding his seat all the way back, attacking his pants, the button and zipper no match for his deft fingers. I was wearing a T-shirt-style dress, so discarding my panties didn’t take but a second before I was crawling over the center console being careful of my wrist. Sylvester’s big hand wrapped around his even bigger cock, and then he was bottoming out inside me with one powerful thrust. We didn’t stop until his cum was leaking out. Sly, with his deep, husky voice, made one request, well, demand really, to put my panties on to hold his cum inside me as much as possible. It was hot, putting it up there in the top five of the hottest sex we’ve had category.
“Hey, baby girl, this is a pleasant surprise.” Dad picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, Dad, I’m afraid it’s not for me. Sylvester needs to talk with you, and it’s an urgent matter.” The phone is on speaker. Sly scoops it off the desk and takes it with him. I shrug my shoulders. He’ll bring it back when he’s ready. Until then, I’m going to call Rachel, the new receptionist, and make sure his next appointment can hold off for another ten minutes.
I pick up the phone and hit line one, waiting for Rachel to answer, “Hi, Fawn, how can I help you?” She has no idea how much she’s already doing that. Her fielding calls has helped so much, reducing what’s on my plate and allowing me to be done with work at a decent time.
“Hi, Rachel, can you hold off Mr. Sterling’s appointment for ten minutes?” I ask, unsure how long the talk between Sly and my dad could take.
“I would usually say yes, since Mrs. Sterling is pacing, but I’m not sure it’ll be possible.” I’m going to kick Sylvester’s ass. I told him that we should have swung by his parents’ place later in the day yesterday, but he told me one set of parents was all he could take for the day and parked us on his couch for the remainder of the afternoon.
“Crap. Go ahead and send her in. I hate to keep her waiting.” The reason I know it’s his mom and not his ex-wife is because Leslie never took his last name, not legally, and not socially. Plus, from what Sly told me, the way Dad wrote up his divorce papers, part of the clause was she went her way and left him to his. And besides seeing each other on the rare occasion, Leslie wouldn’t be able to contact him, or it would be a breach in their contract in which he could take her to court, suing her if he wanted.
“Will do.” We hang up. Sylvester is still on the phone. I point at the door, walking toward the heavy wood as it flies open.
“Sylvester Sterling, you may be forty-four years old, but you are not old enough to write you out of the will. How I have to find out that you have a woman in your life from friends in town, I will never understand,” Clara Sterling snaps with a flare. She’s tall, slim, has a head full of salt-and-pepper hair, more white than dark, and the white pant suit she’s wearing is gorgeous against her tan skin.
“I’ll call you back, Jack. Thanks for the information,” Sylvester says on the phone.