Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“What if I want you? What if I want to take care of you now?” I asked her, taking a step forward and forcing her back. Her knees hit the bed and she nearly collapsed, the heat growing between us and nearly suffocating me.
I kissed my way down her neck, letting the heat between us climb higher and higher.
“Not just yet,” I said as I stroked my dick again, feeling it turn hard as steel again already. “Let me taste you,” I whispered.
Her gorgeous eyes peeked up at me through her thick lashes.
“Take it easy on me, will you?” Her words were playful, again feigning a strength that wasn’t quite there. She was exposed and weak for me. Both of us knew it, only she was pretending she wasn’t.
It’s something that made me crave her more.
“Sure,” I whispered in her ear as I pushed her onto the bed. But I never had any intention of holding back when it came to her.
I fucked her as hard as I could into that mattress. I buried myself inside her and held off as long as possible, taking her higher and higher each time until she was holding on to me for her life. Her nails scratched and dug into my skin as she screamed out my name.
I destroyed her the best way I could. And I’ve never been more satisfied of anything else in my life.
Kat’s an emotional woman. I didn’t see it at first, but that night, our first night, I got my first taste of it. I could practically hear her tell me she loved me. If nothing else, I know she loved what I did to her.
I wanted to hear her tell me those words so badly. More than anything else, I wanted this woman to admit it. She fell in love with me that first night.
I was desperate for it.
I didn’t realize that night that the look in her eyes was exactly what I felt too. Desperate to keep her, but knowing it was never supposed to happen.
I turn on my heels, facing the door as the sound of someone coming up the stairs brings me back to today. Six years later, that night is just a distant memory.
The door to my bedroom opens wide, creaking as it does and revealing my father. I haven’t seen him like this in a long damn time.
His hair’s been gray for a while, but it’s just a bit too long and thinner. With the deep wrinkles around his eyes and only wearing a T-shirt and flannel pants, he looks older and frailer than I remember. Beaten down. Just a few years can change everything. Has it been that long since I really looked at him?
“You getting comfortable in here?” Pops asks me as he walks in and takes a look at the dresser. He runs a hand along it and then makes a face as he turns his hand over and sees the dust there. As he wipes his hand on the flannel pajamas he adds, “It’s about time you came back to clean your room.”
A rough chuckle barely makes its way up my chest.
“When are you moving out of this place?” I ask him jokingly.
“When I’m dead and gone,” my father answers me the same way he has for years now. Ever since Ma passed, I’ve wanted him to move. He won’t, though, and I can’t blame him.
“Good thing I’m not in a nursing home. Don’t think you’d like to crash there, would you?”
I give him a tight smile, feeling nothing but shame. I run my hand through my hair searching for some sort of an explanation, but I can’t lie to my father and I don’t want to tell him the truth. So I don’t say anything and stare past him instead.
The silence is thick between us until he speaks, glancing around the room rather than looking at me.
“I messed up before with your mother, you know. She kicked me out. I thought it was over.” My father flicks on the light and stalks slowly toward the bed, ignoring the fact that I just wanted to pass out and try to sleep. As if I’d be able to in this room.
“I was younger than you, though. By the time I was your age, we’d had you. I’d settled down and stopped being stupid.”
“What’d you do?” I ask my father out of genuine curiosity. I’d never seen anything but love from my parents. They never fought in front of me and the one time I came home early, catching them in the heat of a fight, they stopped immediately.
Later that night, when I was sitting in front of the TV, cross-legged and way too close, all I could hear was him apologizing in the kitchen. It’d been quiet all afternoon and night.