Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 69(@200wpm)___ 55(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 69(@200wpm)___ 55(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Forbidden |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Jordan Silver |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | B00EBSRDAW |
| Book Information: | |
Drake Coburn has always looked out for his stepsister like a good brother should, until one day his girlfriend had an idea that would turn their lives upside down. Would one taste of the sweet Bella be enough, or will he go back for more? | |
| Books by Author: | Jordan Silver Books |
Prologue
I watch her as she putters around the kitchen, her iPod in her ears, her short shorts hugging her tiny ass beautifully as her not so tiny belly was covered in one of my long sleeved V necked tees.
My heart swelled even as I felt an erection pulse behind the zipper of my jeans, my woman, my child, my most precious everything.
There was no guilt in thinking those things, after all there were no secrets here, there were many who would not understand our relationship, thank God we weren't the types to care about what others thought, if we had, we would never have come to enjoy this beautiful existence that we now held so dear, that we were willing to fight to hold onto tooth and nail.
I guess I should go back a little ways and tell you what I'm talking about, maybe you'd understand, maybe not, like I said we don't too much care either way.
Chapter 1
When I was nine my father Robert married a woman from town, her name was Rachel and she was the widow of a local businessman who'd been gunned down or something like that, she had a daughter Isabella who was tiny and cute and shy.
I had no time for girls; I pretty much saw them as a waste of space, and this one more so than others with her quiet, mousy ways.
I tried to avoid her as much as possible, after all I had seen her at school for years and never had anything to do with her, I don't see why that had to change now just because she lived in my house, besides the house was big enough I never had to see her if I didn't want to except at meal times.
She seemed to like being by herself anyway, which was fine by me, it gave me the freedom to do what I liked, which was play around on my piano making music when I wasn't out frog hunting. I'm a boy give me a break okay.
Rachel tried being a mother, but either I had been without one for too long or I was just old enough to know that she wasn't mine, whatever the case I resisted her every effort, in hindsight maybe it was because subconsciously I realized that she was rather negligent of the one child she did have that was hers.
It's not that she was a bad parent, she just was a bit scatter brained, she would forget what she was doing half the time leaving projects half done, or burning dinner, the usual frazzled housewife.
My dad sure loved her though because they spent a lot of time locked away in their room, I understood the noises coming from their room, not just at night, but all hours of the day sometimes, but I wasn't sure little Isabella did, she would get this bugged eyed look on her face and make as though to go pound on their door before her little shoulders would deflate and she would hang her head as if in defeat.
"He's not hurting her you know." I reassured her the third time I had seen this reaction, I'd come up on her in the hallway outside our bedroom doors which were across the hall from each other, our parents were screwing away in their room at the end of the hall, it was midday on a Saturday, school was out for the weekend and if I remembered correctly last thing I knew Rachel had been in the middle of making lunch while dad had ran to his office at the hospital for some paperwork he had forgotten.
I'd been pounding away at my piano and through a pause I heard the familiar sounds which were especially loud today because I could hear them through the walls; then I'd heard the hitching breath and what sounded like tears coming from outside my door.
She was just standing there looking so small and defenseless, her little fists folded, a fire in her eyes until she gave up whatever inner battle she was fighting.
That's when I made my presence known, she turned to me with this look of wonder on her face, maybe it was because I had deigned to speak to her after all this time, or who knows, maybe she was just a little touched in the head like everyone seemed to think.
It was rumored that losing her father to a convict with a gun had done something to her that threw a once vibrant girl into a shell from which she never withdrew even after three years.
My mom had been gone for way longer than that, it had been eight years since mom had died, it had been sudden as well from what dad told me, a brain aneurism, quick, fast and deadly, he'd never even gotten to say goodbye.