Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Now the weather had turned milder, she wore skintight denim jeans with holes in the knees and heeled olive booties. She wore a black t-shirt that hugged her curves nicely while her brown cardigan hung by the door. Whether she was in a dress or covered head to toe, she looked stunning. For not having any money, she knew how to shop on a budget. She walked up to me and took the glass out of my hands, even though I’d had barely a sip. “If you’re done berating me, you should go.” She gathered both of the glasses and placed them in the kitchen sink.
Voicing my concerns only seemed to annoy her, and it appeared she wouldn’t take my recommendations anyway. Perhaps the world was simpler to me because I had the money to make my problems go away. Monroe didn’t have that luxury, despite the fact that I had erased all of her debts. She still had an average salary, and in a place as expensive as New York, that salary made the working-class poor—especially as a one-income person. If she had a man to split the bills with, her social standing would be much different.
But I got in the way of that. She could have kept dating Wyatt and that may have gone somewhere, but I got rid of him so I could enjoy her myself, even though I had nothing long term to offer her.
She stared at me as she waited for me to walk out the door.
I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m too tired to go home now. I’ll crash here.”
“In my crummy apartment?” she asked incredulously.
“I never said your apartment was crummy. I just don’t like your neighbors.”
“Well, I’m making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner.”
I shrugged. “Then that’s what we’ll have.” I walked into her bedroom and stripped off my t-shirt. Her bed was just two mattresses piled on top of a steel frame. There wasn’t a headboard. One dresser was against the wall, but it looked old, like she’d picked it up from a flea market. When I was down to my boxers, I lay on the bed, feeling the slight discomfort in my lower back because the mattress was clearly old.
She stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame. “You have no problem making yourself at home, huh?”
“Not really.” I interlocked my fingers behind my head and stared at her, hoping those clothes would start dropping to the floor.
“Some might say that’s rude.”
“And others might say you’re in my debt—and I can do whatever I want.”
Her eyes narrowed at my assholish comment. “I might owe you my time, but you certainly don’t own me.”
“I disagree.” I got off the bed and slowly walked toward her, enticed by this cat-and-mouse game. Her resistance was genuine rather than part of a dirty game, but that made it even better. I stopped in front of her, watching her keep her steady gaze as she looked into mine.
Her breathing slowly increased as she remained the recipient of my gaze. She kept the fire in her eyes, but the rest of her body was wavering. She was either intimidated or aroused by the way I swallowed her whole.
“Take off your clothes.” My eyes moved down her neck to the t-shirt she wore, the thin fabric that separated my eyes from her beautiful flesh. “Now.” I’d paid a lot of money to own this woman, and I intended to cash in every single penny in return. She didn’t have the power to tell me no, not for the next three months. So I knew how I wanted to fuck her. I wanted her on her hands and knees, ass in my face, with my big dick sliding through that small pussy.
She still resisted me in silence but eventually snapped under the weight of my intimidation. She slowly peeled off her top then unhooked her bra in the back. It fell to the floor and revealed her perfect tits, busty boobs with perfect nipples. She studied the way I stared at her, the way my eyes devoured her tits.
“The rest.”
She popped the button on her jeans and pulled those down, leaving the boots for last. She unzipped them then peeled off her socks. Once her shoes were gone, she was two inches shorter.
I rested my arm against the wall and leaned in as I examined her, cherishing the feminine curves that made her devastatingly beautiful. She had an hourglass figure, tight thighs that I loved to kiss before I kissed her pussy, and a sexy belly button. Her fair skin was as white as the clouds and soft like a rose petal. Everything about her was perfect, like she wasn’t even real. A surgeon had made all of her features ideal, had turned her from an ordinary woman into an extraordinary one. Why did she work in the marketing department when she should be the face of her clothing line? “I’ve been with a lot of women in my life…none of them compare to you.” I dragged the backs of my fingers down her neck then over her collarbone. She was like a doll I liked to play with, always careful with her because she might break. My hand moved to her cheek, and I saw the way she turned into the touch.