Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
He’d felt the moment her cherry had split, and that feeling had been so fucking amazing. No other man or boy had known the kind of pleasure with her body. Mavis was a special woman.
He didn’t deserve her.
No one else deserved her.
It pissed him off to think of anyone with her.
Running fingers through his hair, he padded through the lawn, once again wearing nothing on his feet.
He happened to love his garden, and over the past few years he’d spent a lot of time in it from caring for each of the plants, to just mowing the small lawn.
Once he got to the bottom of his yard to the pool area, he sighed. He shouldn’t have asked her to take her clothes off.
There were a lot of things he shouldn’t have asked her to do.
Heading to the pool house, he saw the door was closed. Without knocking, he opened it up and saw no one was there. There hadn’t been any of her clothes from last night either. Glancing down at the white carpet he paused.
There were drops of blood, showcasing her virginity.
He’d taken that last night. Torn through her body and made her his.
Moving toward the small kitchen, he grabbed a cloth and quickly added some water. He made his way toward the spot and started to attempt to clean it.
No matter what he did, the blood wouldn’t come out, and it looked like he was only making the small droplets worse. The entire carpet would have to be replaced.
Mavis wasn’t here, and he couldn’t stick around. He needed to go and make sure she was all right.
Heading back toward his home, he had this feeling of dread settle in the pit of his stomach. There’s no way he’d ever be able to come back from this. Not even a little bit.
He was so pissed off at himself, with everything for what had happened.
Gritting his teeth, he headed inside the kitchen and stopped when he caught sight of Mavis. She stood near the counter, a toaster in front of her, and she looked up at him. She wore a pretty little pink dress that only seemed to enhance the blue of her eyes and her blue-black hair.
“Morning,” he said. His voice croaked.
“Morning.”
She didn’t sound bitter or angry.
He watched her as she leaned over the toaster, watching the bread. There was so much he wanted to say, and yet not a single word came out. Her hair was once again tied back, and as he moved around her, she seemed to bend over just a little to showcase her rounded butt. He wondered if her ass was still red from his smacks last night.
Watching her run from him had infuriated him. He’d never known such rage like he did last night. If she’d have fallen or hurt herself, he’d never have forgiven himself. Not ever.
She was a virgin last night, and you stole that, asshole.
She could be hurting, and you’re standing there admiring her ass. Get with the program! Ask her how she is.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Fine.”
Now she was back to the one-word answers.
“Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“Please.”
He grabbed two cups from the cupboard and placed them on the counter. He’d not set up the coffee machine, but that was okay. He scooped up the instant stuff and dumped a couple of spoons into his cup before adding one for her.
Glancing behind himself, he saw that she was looking at him, and quickly averted her gaze to stare back into the toaster.
When the toast popped up, she grabbed each slice, dropping them onto the plate and kissing the tips of her fingers as they burned.
He wasn’t in the mood for toast, and poured some cereal.
Luca moved around the kitchen, keeping an eye on her, aware of every step she took and where she moved while also keeping away from her. He wasn’t afraid of her or anything like that. No, he was scared of himself and his reaction to her.
He’d never fallen for a woman so fast and so hard.
She wasn’t even a woman yet. Most would probably see her as a girl.
A girl who’d lost her parents.
From the moment he got the phone call, he’d been out of his depth. She slathered peanut butter on each slice of toast before sitting down at the counter. Sitting opposite her, he put the coffee near her plate, and took a seat with his cereal. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke.
The silence seemed like the curse of death to him. He couldn’t handle it, didn’t want to even deal with it. He was so pissed off at himself and his complete lack of control.
“Do you want me to call someone?” he asked.
She looked at him with a frown. “Who would I call?”
“I don’t know. Social services? A lawyer? The cops?”