Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Now? We own ten auto body shops.
But my husband and I continue to work in the first one, because it’s our home. It’s where we made our first happy memories on our own. The first night when we made love for hours in the creaking bed and he promised to provide for me, always. That scary morning when I went into labor with our first child and Flynt could barely think straight, he was so sick over my pain. The time my father came into the shop a year ago and asked for our forgiveness, admitting that we’d done well and proven him wrong.
Done well is an understatement.
We live in a beautiful home now overlooking the lake where Flynt took my innocence. Where we fell in love. At night, sometimes we still walk down there. He lays me down on our patch of grass, crickets chirping in the distance, and he enters me like it’s the very first time. It always feels that way. New and exciting and urgent.
And unprotected.
It’s why at age twenty-eight, we have five children. Four daughters and a son.
They’re in school this morning. The same school I attended growing up. And their grandfather is picking them up afterward and taking them out for ice cream. That gives me and my husband the whole day alone. He’s walking up the stairs now toward the office with a purposeful look in his eye, telling me he knows exactly how to spend the afternoon.
I’m already out of breath.
Of course, I am.
This man is covered in different versions of my name, his devotion to me obvious in every single thing he does. He was big and strong in high school, but now he’s a beast. He kept up the weightlifting after prison and all that strength is on display right now as he comes to a stop in the doorframe of the office. His gaze drops to my legs and I tug down my skirt, as if self-conscious. Letting him know I’m in the mood to play.
His eyes darken dramatically, his greasy chest heaving in the dim office lighting.
“It’s time for your lunch break,” Flynt says, his voice like salty rocks.
“Oh.” I stand up in front of my desk. “Thank you.”
I start to move past my husband, but he catches my elbow. “You’ll be taking it here.”
“I will?” I have to tip my head all the way back to look him in the eye. “Why?”
“Because I’m your boss and I say so.”
This is one of my favorite games. I’m already beginning to flush, my pulse racing faster. “You might be my boss, but I’m free on my lunch break. To do whatever I want.”
“Wrong.” He picks me up by the waist and drops me onto the desk. Lazily, he starts to unfasten his belt buckle. “You’re still on the clock.”
“Legally, I’m—”
His snort interrupts me. Roughly, he shoves my legs apart and goes down on his knees, examining my panties up close. “I knew it.” He twists a knuckle against my entrance through the barrier of my underwear. “You got soaked up here watching me.”
“N-no…” I try to close my thighs, but he won’t let me. “No, I—”
“Don’t deny it.” He tugs the material to the right, baring my sex and I have to grip the edge of the desk, I’m so turned on and excited. “You’re a horny little girl.” He spits on my flesh and delivers it a sharp slap. “That’s why I hired you. For my lunch breaks.”
I try to slide off the desk. “No.”
He crowds closer, preventing my feet from touching the ground. “Open your thighs. Feel me turn that no into a yes.”
“I don’t want to,” I whine, even though I’m clenching, pulsing, ready to beg him to fill me. “You’re all greasy.”
“That’s your favorite part,” he rasps in my ear, his hands yanking my butt to the edge of the desk. While I feign struggles, he fists his erection and uses the smooth steel of it to shift my panties aside. And then he rams himself home inside of me, my scream splitting the office air in half. “Oh yeah. Oh…that’s ripe and tight for Daddy.”
I slap him in the face and he grunts, catching my wrists and holding them behind my back. Baring his teeth and looking me square in the eye, he starts to rut me hard, butting the desk up against the office wall over and over again. Rattling the paper trays and stapler and coffee mugs.
“Still no?” he breathes against my mouth.
I moan in response, arching my back.
He laughs into my neck, takes both sides of my backside into his hands and thrusts harder. This is the exact moment the game ends, because we’re too frantic to keep it up. Our mouths meet and meld together, my teeth snapping at his bottom lip, before we dive in and deepen the contact, tasting and reveling in one another’s mouths.