Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Let me go,” I spit out.
“Or what? You’ll tell my mommy?”
I try to shove him away, but his strong hands grab my wrists and slam them to the mattress. My heart hammers in my chest as I realize I may not be safe with him. His taunts and teases aren’t just that. He wants to hurt me.
“We’re going to fuck, Ash. And it’s going to ruin our parents’ marriage.” He licks my cheek like a fucking dog. “Don’t worry, baby sis, I’ll make it really good for you. It’ll be worth it when you’re back to living in your shitty apartment with your loser dad.”
I struggle to no avail. “Let me go or I’ll destroy your life, Scout. Do not test me.”
His eyes narrow as he studies me. I make sure to keep the venom in my glare. I’m not about to let this monster have sex with me just to cause a divorce between our parents.
“I better not find out this friend of yours is a boyfriend,” he warns, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. “It’ll only make your life worse.” He glances at the ceiling fan. “I will stomp on that pretty little bird if I have to get that point across to you.”
He climbs off me and saunters out of the room like he didn’t just drop massive threats on me. I scramble to my feet and reach out for Shrimp. Now that Scout is gone, Shrimp chirps angrily at me.
“I know, buddy, I know. I’m so sorry. Come on.”
After bitching me out in his birdy way, he finally flutters down into my open, waiting hands. Tonight, I’m barricading my door. I’ll be damned if I let Scout or his brothers touch one hair on my head.
I take a quick shower and then coddle Shrimp until I’m sure he’s forgiven me. Once I have him back in his cage with his blanket covering it so he’ll feel safe, I dig the money out of my jeans pocket and hide the stash in my jewelry box. I take a peek at my phone, disappointed that Winston hasn’t messaged me.
Why?
He’s another version of the Terror Triplets.
A rich, strong man hellbent on doing whatever it takes to get his way.
Still, a pang of sadness hits me in the gut. I take a selfie and send it to him before I can think twice.
Me: A freebie.
His response is immediate.
Winston: What has you in such a giving mood? Was it that mind-altering orgasm I helped you obtain?
I roll my eyes at his stupid words.
Me: I wouldn’t call it mind-altering . . .
Winston: That’s because it wasn’t my tongue.
Heat floods through me as I imagine just that.
Winston: You could earn more money, but it’s going to require you to show a little skin.
Me: Perv.
Winston: A rich one.
Me: Tell me what you want, and I’ll decide if I’ll give it to you.
Winston: Got more of those candies?
I glance over at my giant jar of cherry Starburst, special ordered in that flavor only.
Me: Maybe . . .
Winston: Unwrap one and lick it.
Me: Okayyyyy.
Winston: Don’t be a brat. Just do it.
I set my phone down and then grab a handful of Starburst. Once I’m settled on my bed, I unwrap one and lick it.
Me: Done. Now what?
Winston: So dutiful. Take your shirt off.
Me: Tell me everything you want first.
Winston: It’s more than I can text.
Me: Then I’m probably too tired for it.
He doesn’t reply for what feels like forever. Insecurity claws at my insides. I’m not exactly plaything material. Hell, I’ve barely had a boyfriend, much less a man. He probably has several girls he does this with, which for some reason, annoys the hell out of me.
An hour passes and I frown so hard at my phone, my head aches. I’ve gone through all but one of my Starbursts I grabbed.
What could Winston have possibly wanted me to do?
Several filthy images tease my mind. One of which I’m not ready to try. With a sigh of resignation, I peel off my shirt and toss it. The cool air kisses my flesh, making my nipples pebble. I lie back, lick the Starburst, and then tease my hardened nipple with the wet side of the candy. Once my nipple has had enough attention, I smear the sticky wetness all over my breast. I rest the candy on top of my nipple, hiding it and then take a selfie. Just my breast and hair are in the picture. Before I think too hard, I send it.
Me: Good night.
He doesn’t send me one hundred, he sends me five.
Winston: Good night indeed, my darling girl.
Me: Thank you. Oh, this is a freebie . . .
I send him a selfie of just my face this time, my red tongue sticking out.
He sends me five hundred more. It’s both thrilling and stressful all at once. I almost feel bad for taking this man’s money. Almost. I’m sure, at the end of this, I’ll hate his guts. It’d be harder if I weren’t so damn attracted to him. Something about him calls to me. I’m going to get myself in so deep with this fucked-up man.