Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Her confidence that night when she was talking to her friend, that’s what I want. That straightforward no holds barred attitude to go with that sexy body of hers could make a man overlook a lot of things. And now that I think about it, any woman who talks to her pussy has got to be hella funny, and I could do with some gaiety in my life.
I’d spent the better part of the last twenty years working my ass to the bone. My old man was a blue-collar worker all his life, but he didn’t let that stop him from looking ahead, especially for his kids. Growing up, we didn’t have much, just enough to make do, except when it came to anything having to do with school. Then he never held back.
I learned, along with each of my siblings when we turned eighteen, that that was because he’d been squirreling away most of the money he made from his two jobs for our future. I got a full ride to college, so he gave me mine to use as a down payment on a house or to pay for a wedding, as in my sister’s case.
Me, I used mine to open a bar with a friend in a part of town that was looking to become gentrified any second. I knew the signs from some of the places we lived as a kid before dad found steady work, and we settled down here. Some people thought it would be a waste. The previous owners had pulled out after being at the location for thirty-something years, so that must be a sign.
But I knew what I knew, and when I turned to my old man for his blessing, he told me the money was mine to do what I wanted and that he’d raised me to follow my dreams. So, I went ahead, and two years later, fresh outta college, that bar was bringing me in more money than I would’ve made had I gotten an entry-level job in my chosen career.
That same buddy and I went on to open three more bars around the area that were all doing well, along with a couple of restaurants. He settled down and had a few kids, and by the time the nightclub deal came along, his wife wanted him at home. They were making more than enough money to keep them happy for a lifetime. So I guess you can say the club is my baby.
Since I didn’t come from money, I guess I never really saw how others treated it and the people who had it. For me, money meant buying my parents a nicer house in a way better neighborhood. It meant setting up college funds for my nieces and nephews and taking the whole family on vacation twice a year.
It didn’t take me long, though, to figure out what money meant to some. To realize that some people only see dollar signs when they look at you, that you’re nothing more to some than an easier way of life. I grew pretty sordid pretty quickly and learned early on to keep my heart out of the game.
And now here she comes, confusing the hell outta me and making me think crazy thoughts. I looked back towards the bed where she laid fast asleep, wondering as a kernel of hope unfurled in my gut if she could be the one. She seems to tick all of my boxes so far. But there’s a lot that needs doing before we can go any further.
I know what she wants; I have seen a side of her that she doesn’t know I’ve seen. I’ve heard her inner thoughts about her life, the divorce, her company even, so from those little snippets, I have a pretty good idea of what she’s like. But it’s still not enough for me to so carelessly spill my seed in her without protection.
The thing is, now that the idea’s been planted in my head, that’s the only way I want to have her now. And that’s why I had to put the brakes on for tonight, that and the fact that I don’t reward bad behavior. She doesn’t strike me as the type to cheat; she’d stayed in an unfulfilled marriage for ten years and didn’t see anyone for two years while she waited for her divorce to become final, and besides, I’d heard her assessment of the guy when her friend pointed him out to her.
But she has to learn that doing things to make me jealous, even in jest, is a dangerous thing to do. Because for some reason, she’s brought that out also in me. She may not see herself as desirable, so to her, it’s a harmless joke, but to me, the man who’s had his hands on her ass and skirted around her pussy with my fingers, the man who sees past the shy need to be accepted to the feline beast hidden behind her eyes, I know just how fucking desired she is and will be once I unleash her power, once I remove the restraints in her mind and show her what she really looks like I’m gonna have a time on my hands.