Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?” I ask in a husky whisper.
“I know you’re hurting,” she replies. “I can’t just leave you in here alone.”
“I’m fine,” I grunt.
She walks around the bed. Despite the emotion clinging to me, I can’t stop the hunger. Her perky nipples are poking through her top. She sits, taking my hand. “I know you care.”
“Maybe you want me to care,” I say, squeezing her hand. I should roar at her to get the hell out of my room or whisper sternly, anyhow, so Mike doesn’t hear. I should snap at her that my mother means nothing to me, so she better stop fussing about it.
Instead, I pull her into a hug. She makes a gentle moaning noise as she slips into my lap.
“This isn’t about that,” she says, wriggling against me, feeling my hardness press against her thighs.
Stop, stop, stop! Mike is twenty feet away, if that. He could hear us and walk in here. If there’s movement on the cameras, he’ll need to come in here and alert me, and then what? He’s going to find me indulging in his daughter’s curves, her delicious, perfect body.
“I can’t help how my body responds to you.”
She slips out of my lap, sits at my side, takes my hand, and looks at me stubbornly. In the low light, her eyes glitter in the most alluring way. She will always fascinate me, my perfect girl, every inch of her body and soul.
“I’m here for you,” she whispers. “For more than that.”
“I told you. My dad abused me. My mom heard it and did nothing.”
“Stop acting like I can’t read you,” she says. “I know this means more to you than you’re trying to make me believe.”
“Maybe there were some good times,” I grunt, glancing at the door, “but you shouldn’t be here.”
“I know,” she whispers.
That’s it. I know, and then neither of us does anything about it. She squeezes my hand even tighter, smoothing her thumb over my knuckles, then leans forward and gently kisses me on the cheek. I turn, find her lips, and let the savage in me awaken. Then she puts her hand against my chest and leans away. She’s trying to keep this civil like I should be, but she can’t stop the heat from blazing through her hand. She can’t hide it from her eyes either.
“What good times?” she asks.
“Little moments,” I tell her. “Sometimes, we’d play cards before Dad got home. Or we’d watch movies together. They seemed special to me as a kid, but that was only when she tried to get clean, which never lasted long.”
This makes me think of Peter, the criminal on the edge. I gave him a second chance. Why? For Mom? Do I really believe he will change his life? More likely, he’ll slip up. Then he’ll find me waiting for him one night, my gun in hand, ready to do what I’ve done before.
“You won’t be able to live with yourself if you let Rafael hurt her.”
“Maybe not,” I snap, making my voice quieter, “but I won’t be able to live if I let anything happen to you, Emma. You’re… you’re all that matters to me.”
She blinks, her eyes glistening as if she’s about to let out some tears. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth,” I growl. “You and our future.”
“What future?” she says, with that sassy fierceness that keeps putting me on the edge of claiming her again.
I grab her hips and pull her back into my lap. My rod stiffens right away, blotting out all my thoughts. Even without the wind whipping and howling outside or the snow flurrying, I feel trapped with my woman.
“It wasn’t the blizzard that trapped us,” I whisper, bringing my lips close to hers, grazing her lips, tasting her, all the temptation, all the hunger. “We trapped ourselves. Just like at the party. Trapped in that closet. Trapped because we want to be. Trapped by our desire. You can feel it.”
“Hmm,” she moans, shifting against me. Then she says, “Jacob…”
There’s a lot contained in that one word. She’s saying, Dad might catch us. She’s saying, We’re supposed to be trying to end this. She’s saying, We don’t have time for this now.
When I press my lips against hers, all her doubts melt away with another moan. She slides her hands to my shoulders, pressing in the urgent way I recognize from the blizzard. I grind my hips, rubbing my thick length through my pants against her shorts, feeling her heat, the folds of her lips.
“Are you wearing any underwear?” I groan.
She leans back, her lips shiny from the kissing. Slowly, she shakes her head.
I slide my hand up her leg, squeezing down against her thickness, pushing my hand between her legs. She really isn’t. I can feel her wet pussy leaking her eager juices all over my hand through her shorts. She moans as I rub her slowly, glancing at the door but not stopping me, and I don’t stop myself.