Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
“Landon,” I say, starting to sweat from the sheer audacity he’s exhibiting right now.
“Relax your legs,” he says again. “I’ll hurt you if you don’t. Let it feel good.”
There’s tension everywhere else in my body, but reluctantly, I let my legs relax.
Maybe if I give a little, he’ll back off.
Maybe it’s more a battle of wills than anything. A game of chicken. I don’t mind losing that. Besides, there’s fabric—
Landon’s fingers slide beneath the fabric of my swimsuit and I gasp as he fingers my slit. “Landon.”
“Take a bite of your steak.”
His voice is steady as he rubs two fingers along my pussy with a sense of calm and confidence I can’t fathom given the circumstances.
What’s worse is the wetness that pools inside of me as he does it.
“Landon, please. They’re going to—”
He rubs me. “Shh. Pick up your fork and take a bite of your steak, Parker.”
I can scarcely sit still as his finger curls and the tip brushes my clit. I cry out sharply, gripping the edge of the table.
“Your face is too expressive, baby.” He sounds completely unconcerned as he fingers me harder. “Take a bite to give it something to do.”
Eating is the next to last thing I want to do right now, but getting caught tops the list. I grab my fork with unsteady fingers and stab a piece of juicy steak. My thighs tremble at the sensation of Landon rubbing my clit, and I grab his thigh with my other hand, needing something to hold on to.
“That’s a good girl. Now, put it in your mouth.”
I do as he commands, and this time when the juicy steak hits my tongue, his finger brushes my clit and a moan I can’t hold back escapes my throat.
“Perfect.” He teases my clit and my fingers clench more tightly around his thigh. “They’re glancing our way. You better smile. We’re having a nice evening, aren’t we? Spending time together as a family, just the way you wanted us to.”
It’s sick to say something like that when his fingers are currently bringing me so close to climax, I want to die. “Landon,” I murmur, trying to keep my face straight.
“Shh. Let it happen.”
The pressure mounts as he teases that overly sensitive bundle. The nervousness of getting caught intensifies the unwanted sensation. This shouldn’t be happening, but it is, and I can’t stop him. All I can do is let it happen so he’ll stop and then… and then…
A series of helpless noises escape my throat as he plays my pussy like an instrument he has spent his whole life studying. I can’t sit still and come up off the seat, my legs and thighs spasming as ecstasy rips through me.
He keeps his fingers inside me as pleasure washes through me in waves.
When the tremors pass, I take a deep breath and look down at my plate. My face burns with shame as Landon withdraws his fingers from my body, but I don’t have time to process what just happened. The sliding door opens and my stomach rocks.
With his fingers still pressed against my pussy, Landon leans over and murmurs, “You think you’re safe when they’re around. Maybe now you understand; you’re only safe from me when I want you to be.”
Landon’s fingers slide out of my panties and briefly close possessively around my thigh. It’s only for a second, then he lets go and uses that filthy, demented hand to grab his drink glass. I finally dare to look in his direction and watch him subtly dip his finger into the drink and swish it around. He gives me a wink, then takes a long, thirsty gulp.
I am mortified and… too many other things to name.
Mom takes a seat across from me and flashes me a smile.
I attempt to smile back, but it’s a weak one.
“So, Landon makes a good steak, huh?” she asks, trying to be relaxed and friendly, since she believes he isn’t being a menace tonight.
Landon smirks. I know it’s for me, but he doesn’t look my way. “Oh, yeah. And Parker loves a good piece of meat.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Parker
Of course, Thursday is picture day, and I have a neck full of hickeys from Landon’s mauling last night.
I bruise so easily, it looks like I was well and truly man-handled.
Well, I guess I was, but I don’t want photographic evidence of it recorded in the yearbook.
Grabbing my phone, I frantically text Hannah. “I need help! Can you get to school a few minutes early and bring your makeup? I need you to cover up… I just need you to cover something,” I finish, not wanting to commit it to text.
I finish brushing my teeth before she answers. “Any way you can meet me at my house? I’m running a little behind myself. If we’re a little late, then we’re a little late, but I’m not sure I’ll make it to school early.”