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)
There.
Peace fills me, his handsome face in my mind. I picture him kissing his way up the inside of my thigh, his hands braced on either one as he spreads me open and devours my pussy. He’s playing with my tits, too, and it feels incredible, his big palm covering one while he squeezes my nipple with the other.
Wait, that’s not right.
Milo only has two hands, and they’re both on my thighs.
My fantasy turns dark again as I imagine opening my eyes only to see Jonathan Granville is the one playing with my tits while his father eats me out.
“You just love Granville dick, don’t you, stray?”
No.
Fuck.
It’s too late. I try to stop it, but I’m too close. Pleasure rocks me as my body shudders in the wake of my orgasm, but it doesn’t feel good like an orgasm should. It feels inky and guilty and a little sad.
I feel worse than when I climbed into bed by myself.
I just want Milo to be here with me.
I should have gone home.
Next time, I guess I will.
I had hoped Milo’s place would continue to be a sanctuary for me, but maybe I should have known better.
Maybe everywhere stops being safe if you just hang around long enough.
Chapter fifteen
Kennedy
It’s raining when I wake up. That’s why I linger in bed longer than I should.
Not because of the unsettling dreams I had.
Definitely not because I’m avoiding going downstairs and facing all the Granville men.
It’s just the rain. I want to stay curled up in Milo’s bed and listen to it for a while.
When I finally summon the courage to haul my ass out of bed and go downstairs, I make sure I’m dressed first. I wash up in the bathroom and change into one of the outfits Milo bought me when he took me shopping.
I make sure my bag is packed, too. Once I’ve put in an appearance to see Milo and let his shitty son see he hasn’t scared me off, I need to get the hell out of here.
No lingering today, unfortunately.
Jet’s is the first face I see as I enter the kitchen. He’s sitting at the island with a notebook open, a pencil in his hand, and his phone out on the countertop. He must be working on something because he doesn’t even seem to notice me come in.
“Good morning,” I say anyway.
“Good morning,” he answers distractedly before jotting something down.
The sound of my voice attracts the attention of the Granville standing with the refrigerator door open, grabbing a carton of orange juice.
My heart stalls as my gaze locks with Jonathan’s. He’s wearing black and gray basketball shorts with a gray zip hoodie, but it’s sleeveless, showcasing his bulging muscles as he rudely uncaps the carton and takes a swig from it.
His eyes glint with superior amusement as he swallows and swipes the back of his hand across his mouth just to be obnoxious. “Morning, Kennedy.”
He says my name in a mocking way. I’m shocked he even knows it. Since he decided to start being a dick to me, he has exclusively used his degrading nickname to address me.
I see why when Milo walks around the other side of the fridge, his gaze warm until he sees I’m fully dressed. “You’re not leaving already, are you?”
I don’t know how to answer. Walking around the counter, I put my purse down to claim the spot by Jet. “Um, not right this second, but I can’t stay long.”
Milo moves around his son and grabs a carton of eggs. “You have time for breakfast?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Ordinarily, I would offer to help. I enjoy cooking with Milo.
Today, Jonathan is helping cook, though, so I remain seated at the center island and watch them work.
It occurs to me that they both look really alert, and they’re wearing workout clothes. I glance over at Jet and see he’s still in his pajamas.
“Have you been up for a while?”
I’m only really addressing Milo, but of course it’s Jonathan who answers. “We sure have. Went for a run, did a little workout. Logged that father-son time, you know?”
Since I wasn’t talking to him, I don’t answer him.
But, since I ignore him, Jonathan pays attention to me even harder. “How’d you sleep?”
“Great,” I chirp, even though it’s not true.
“Yeah?” He sounds faintly surprised, and that makes me happy. Even if it’s bullshit, I’m happy to ruin his day with news of what a fantastic time I had not being at all bothered by his harassment.
“Yep. Milo’s bed is so comfy, I just love being there. And I had really nice dreams.”
“Oh yeah?” Jonathan turns around to face me, one eyebrow cocked as he leans back against the counter. “Were you being railed by a whole soccer team?”
“No. But it’s interesting to know that’s your idea of a good dream. Love is love, Jonathan. I support you.”