Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
I grab it and uncap it.
Sure enough, it’s red.
I lean back to glance down the hall and see my mother swearing and cursing, growing more and more annoyed as she looks for this lipstick.
My mouth opens, but my voice seems to be stuck in my throat. I could call out and end this fit of annoyance, but…
I don’t.
Instead, I slip the lipstick in my handbag and head out of the apartment.
What I told her was true, I never wear red lipstick.
But when I get in my car and pull down my visor, I decide there’s a first time for everything. I prime my lips with a nice moisturizing balm, then run the smooth stick of lip color over my full lips and blot.
I never wear red lipstick, but I like the way it looks. I like the way I feel wearing it right now.
I think I’ll keep it.
Satisfaction washes over me as I drop the cheap lipstick I was accused of stealing right into my purse. Deepens as I start my car and back out, knowing I’m heading to Milo’s house, and knowing how fucking mad my mom would be if she knew.
Chapter three
Milo
When Jonathan told me this morning he thought there was something going on between Jet and Kennedy, I didn’t believe him.
It seemed downright fucking absurd, in fact. I love my youngest son, but if it weren’t for the strength of my genes causing him to physically resemble me, I’d be tempted to question whether or not he’s even mine. We couldn’t be less alike, and there’s no way in hell a woman could be attracted to me and him.
I stand by that, but I can’t deny the way he lit up when her car pulled in the drive tonight. The way she looked with her long curly hair a wild, unruly mess and her lips painted red. She looked like she’d just been fucked, but she was ready to go again.
I like it, but also, I don’t fucking like it.
I’d like it if she looked like that because she was coming over to see me, but my son? Nope, don’t like that one fucking bit.
I suppose it makes sense. They’re the same age. That’s why her lovely little tits are so pert, her ass so tight, her skin so fucking soft that I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes certain I can still feel it on my fingertips.
I knew it was fucking mental to go after her, especially when I only knew her because I’d gone out with her mom a couple of times. I only kept seeing her mom because it meant spending time with Kennedy, and her mom was happy to keep seeing me because I paid for everything. And I mean everything. She thought she was so slick whining and complaining about her utility bill being past due and they were going to shut off the power. I handed over the money without complaint, but not because the thought of Tracey sweating her ass off in the summer heat bothered me.
It was Kennedy. Lovely, beautiful, fucking mouthwatering Kennedy. I wanted her tits in my mouth and her ass cradling my dick, but in the meantime I wanted her to be comfortable, so I made sure she was.
Well, as comfortable as she could be living with that woman, anyway.
Now, she’s at my house in her ripped black jeans and her cranberry sweater, her hair wild and free and her lips painted red, and all I can think about is the candy apple ring they would leave around my cock if I could get her alone somehow.
It’s a little more sordid now that my son might have a crush on her, but I’ll upgrade his fucking robotics lab or something, make up for stealing his girlfriend. Jet wouldn’t know what to do with Kennedy, anyway.
I got a taste of her, and it made me want more.
I want to taste her free from the constraints of guilt. I knew she felt bad encroaching on territory she thought of as belonging to someone else, but I’m no one else’s territory, and damn sure not her lush mother’s.
Jet is busy fine-tuning some solar-powered robot he’s working on. I think it’s for school, but it could be just for fun. I don’t think Kennedy gives a single fuck about robotics, but she curls up on the floor with him and listens patiently as he explains things while he works. She leafs through his instruction booklet and consults the blueprint like she’s helping, but I don’t think she’s contributed a single thing.
After a while, she grows bored of the tinkering and goes over to lie on the couch. Her long curly hair spills over the side and she makes a lovely silhouette as she lies there with one knee bent, a swatch of her stomach exposed, and her head turned so she can watch Jet work while she tells him about some pop star she admires.