Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
But Michelle is already engaged to Jerry Williams, part of one of the most powerful families around. She wants nothing to do with him, but she also has no way out. Her father keeps up appearances, but behind the scenes he’s a tyrant and wants her married off for political gain.
I’m going to get Michelle out. I’m going to marry her. But in order to do that, I have to expose her father and show the world who he truly is.
And to make that happen, I’m going have to cross very a dangerous line. A line that will make Michelle mine forever.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
CASEY
“You sure you’ve worked construction before, Casey?” I glance over and see Rodney smirking at me from the fresh concrete we poured just before lunch. “Or have you only ever had your hammer in your hands before? Cause you sure don’t look like you know how to hold that one!”
I fake a phony smile, then lunge quickly at him like I’m going to cave his head in. He backs up quickly and stumbles over a bag of cement, falls on his ass, and loses his hard hat.
Dave and Chris cackle from behind him as they pop open a couple of cold ones.
“Count yourself lucky.” I grin, giving him a hand up. “If we didn’t have witnesses here, I’d have buried you in the next pour. Jimmy Hoffa style.”
“Ah, I see. You’re pickin’ on me because I’m Black.” He grins.
“Oh, I’m pickin’ on you now? Did he just lose his balls, boys?” I ask, turning to the others.
Dave nods, and Chris laughs, raising his beer. “Definitely!”
I grab a beer from the cooler and hand it to Rodney. He does the same for me. We crack them, and I take a long swig. The cold liquid cools me instantly.
I don’t mind working out in the sun and the heat. I’ll be turning thirty soon, and I’ve been grinding since I was fifteen when my dad died and I had to step up to support the family.
It’s not ideal, so you learn to appreciate the little things in life that take your mind off the wheelbarrows full of dirt and the shock of metal on metal as you work a saw through a piece of steel. Sometimes that’s a simple cold one, and sometimes that’s running your mouth with the boys.
The project we’re working on today is enormous. Some rich guy’s new lake house. I can’t even imagine how much it’s going to cost when all is said and done.
“Imagine living in something like this?” I say casually.
Dave blows air through his lips and shakes his head. “That’d get you some chicks. Instagram girls looking to lay out, take pictures of themselves.”
“Hell yeah.” Rodney nods. “Get the house, you get the hoes.”
I laugh under my breath, shaking my head.
“You know whose house this is, right?” Chris asks.
“No. Who?”
“Reverend Patrick Tuttle.”
My body goes instantly tense.
“No shit?” Dave asks.
“Who’s that?” Rodney asks.
“Don’t you go to church?” Dave frowns, throwing a rock his way.
Rodney ducks and retaliates. “Not me, man. I’m a Satan worshipper!” Laughing, he gets up and makes horns on his head with his index fingers and starts dancing around like a demon.
“Patrick Tuttle, huh?” I growl. “That son of a bitch.”
“You don’t like him?” Dave asks. “Come on, Casey. Man’s like a pillar of the community. Fundraisers, food drives, donating to the homeless shelters. All that good stuff.”
It may be hot out, but my blood runs hotter through my veins as my heartrate increases. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, an angel steps into my line of sight.
Dave notices her at the same time and lets out a whistle of approval. The brunette we’re both staring at now looks like she just stepped off a runway at Paris fashion week. A thousand times sexier than any of those Instagram girls he was just talking about.
She’s wearing a pair of jean short-shorts. Not too short, but they do a great job of showing off her perfectly sculpted legs. And right above them, hips that were meant to entice a man and make room to push out babies.
And for some reason, that’s what’s on my mind when I look at her: making babies.
She’s wearing a camisole that hugs her flat stomach and the curves of her C-cups to perfection. I’m irate that she’s wearing a bra. All that’s doing is blocking my view of what else she has in store.
She’s on her phone, and I’m instantly wondering who she’s talking to. A guy? Does she have a boyfriend?
She turns and looks in our direction, and as our eyes meet, blood rushes to my cock, causing it to go instantly hard beneath my jeans.
Goddamn. I’m twenty-nine. Nothing like that has happened to me since I was a teenager. But here I am lusting over this chick like she’s the goddess of femininity come to Earth.
“Who the hell is that?” I ask.
“Oh, you don’t know?” Dave chuckles under his breath. “That’s the Reverend’s daughter, Michelle Tuttle.”
“What’s she doing here?” I ask. “And how did we not see her this whole morning?”
“Good question,” Rodney chimes in. “Let’s go ask her–”
“I’ll go,” I bark. “You guys stay here.”
I get up quickly and start marching away from the boys. I hear Chris call out, “Okay, boss!” sarcastically as I stride toward her.
Part of me wants to turn around and tell them all to get back to work and that lunch break is over, just to keep their eyes off of her. After all, I do have seniority here on the crew. But I push that down and keep walking. I don’t want to create any conflict. All I want to do is get closer to her.