Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
I’d been so caught up in how upset she was tonight that I’d barely given my own feelings a hearing. I pictured him standing there in the doorway earlier, and his words came slamming back to me.
It’s not your mother I’m going to be wanting, Rosie, it’s you.
Trisha was probably talking absolute bullshit about the school gates allegation, but there was no doubt that the man upstairs liked younger women. He’d told me so, and his eyes had been fixed so hard on mine as he’d said it. So honest.
It shouldn’t give me tingles. It shouldn’t make my heart race, and my skin prickle, and my mouth turn dry. He was too old for me. Way, way too old. And even if I did want him, he wouldn’t take it. No way. I’d disappoint him like hell. I’d never even kissed a guy before, let alone one thirty years older than me. I’d have no idea what to do.
I’d want to find out, though…
Fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking like that, not with Mum crying next door.
I wondered what it would be like, to have sex with a man like Julian. I wondered how he’d stare at me if I stripped naked for him, and what he looked like under his suit. I wondered what his cock would look like… if the romantic filth I read and listened to on audio was telling the truth…
I hoped so. I’d love to live out even one of those scenes in real life.
Mum was still heartbroken, but I couldn’t stop myself. The memory of Julian’s words was too strong, and too heated, and the strength in the way he’d thrown Scottie across the room was too intense to ignore. Plus, I wanted the distraction. I needed the distraction.
It’s not your mother I’m going to be wanting, Rosie, it’s you.
There was no denying it… I wanted him, too. I wanted a saviour, who stood out like a romance novel hero. I wanted the man who’d saved my mother.
My panties were wet as I hitched my skirt up, and my clit was sparking the second I touched it. My imagination was alive with thoughts of Julian. His intense green eyes, and his strong hands and the way he stood so tall. His voice… so rich, so polished.
The way he said cunt with such a beautiful accent.
I was desperate to know how a guy like him would fuck a girl like me. What would his voice sound like, and what would he say? Would he be like one of the crazy hot narrators I adored?
He’d probably be even hotter.
I came fast, muffling myself with a pillow, because I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have played. I needed to keep away from him like he’d told me to – for Mum’s sake as well as mine. So, why taunt myself with fantasies?
Just a shame there were so many fantasies at my disposal. Damn it.
I called up social media and checked out the book groups I was a member of. I asked for dirty age gap recommendations in an anonymous post, and the advice came flooding in from loads of filthy romance bookworms. The list was incredible. My ears were already desperate for the audio. I typed out thank yous and added books to my playlist at lightning speed, setting one up right away. I couldn’t help myself.
Mum was huddled up in the foetal position when I found her asleep in front of the TV next morning. I cleared up the pizza plate and got some porridge ready, waking her up with a gentle shake. I got a huge rush of sympathy as I looked at her, and I’d have sat there all day if I had the chance. My resolve from last night had broken.
“Eat up,” I said as I handed the bowl over, but she placed it next to her with nothing more than a token thanks.
I doubted she’d be eating it, but I had no time to encourage her. I had to get to work.
“Are you going to be alright?” I asked, and she nodded at me, rubbing her tired eyes.
“I’ll survive.”
I hoped so.
I worked my butt off that weekend, but I was hanging out with Mum every chance I had. Around that, with every other chance I had, I was enjoying audio and ebook filth from red hot online recommendations. I convinced myself that book heroes were plenty good enough, burying myself in fantasy and nothing more as I stayed away from saviour Julian, checking he was out of sight every time I left the apartment. I resisted the urge to look up at his window and see if he was standing there smoking, and I tried to keep my thoughts clear of him, because he was just the man upstairs and nothing more.
Mum did ok with picking herself up. Within a week she was smiling and sitting at the table with me for dinner. She was back at work, and enjoying TV, and she even got her crochet kit out to make a hat for cute little Ramsay. I loved seeing her like that, grinning when a show made her laugh. I’d sit and laugh along with her.