Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“With pleasure.”
Jack got up at the same time that Ian disappeared under the table.
“Ian? What are you doing?” she asked as he lifted her skirt, his head disappearing underneath.
And then she figured out exactly what he was doing. A moan escaped her and she placed her hand over her mouth.
“I can’t . . . Uncle Willy.” She stared at Jack in worry.
But heck . . . she wanted this. So badly.
“I’ll watch the stairs. I’ll see him coming,” Jack assured her as he placed a bowl of ice cream in front of her. He spooned some up and fed it to her. “Enjoy your treat, baby girl.”
Oh, she did.
She really, really did.
Jack fed her mouthfuls of ice cream as Ian ate her out until she was squirming, unable to concentrate on her sweet treat as Ian drove her insane.
Jack pressed his lips to hers as she let out a cry when she came. She kissed him back eagerly as her body shook from her release.
He let her go, moving away.
Maggie slumped back in her chair, trying to calm her breathing. Ian popped up, lips and chin coated in her arousal.
She might’ve felt embarrassed, if she wasn’t feeling so darn good at that moment.
“You haven’t eaten all of your ice cream,” Ian told her, spooning some of the remaining ice cream. Well, it was more like a puddle of ice cream now.
“I don’t want it,” she told him, still floating. “Nothing . . . nothing could be better than that.”
He leaned into her, kissing her lightly and she tasted herself on his mouth. “Better than fine?”
“So much better than fine.”
Although she might have to tell him that again sometime if this was the result.
44
“Hey, J! Watch me!”
He stared down through the open window as his friend, Carter, splashed in the puddles outside. Water was flying up everywhere as he laughed with excitement.
Jameson really wanted to be out there, jumping in the puddles with him.
But he was supposed to stay in his room and study. He glanced down at the workbook in front of him. He didn’t really understand any of it.
Or why he had to do schoolwork during the school holidays. Especially when Carter was out there playing and he was stuck in here.
“Come outside, J! Come play!”
Without thinking of the consequences, he jumped to his feet and pulled on his boots. Then he ran downstairs, careful to avoid going past the front sitting room where his parents were entertaining.
Racing outside, he let out a whoop as he joined Carter. They jumped for a while, then made a pile of mud pies.
Splat!
He looked down at his clothes, then over at Carter who was grinning. “Mud fight!”
Jameson let out a war cry and scooped up some mud, just as Carter’s face dropped and fear filled it.
Then Jameson felt his wrist being grasped. The hold was hard, but not so firm that it would leave bruises. He stared up into his mother’s face in trepidation.
Her face was a pleasant mask. But her eyes told another story.
“Carter, it’s time you went back to your mother.”
Carter’s mum worked as a maid for his parents. Carter ran off without a look back. Not that Jameson blamed him.
He’d run away too.
His mother started dragging him into the house. “I went looking for you because your father wants to introduce you to his associates, and look where I find you. Acting like a common little brat.” Her scolding ended as they walked inside.
But things had gotten worse. Because standing there was his father and two other men.
Jameson gulped as a look of anger filled his father’s eyes. But he turned to his associates. “Boys . . . you just can’t keep them away from mud, can you?”
One of the men grinned. “Nothing wrong with a bit of mud play. It’s good to see kids playing outside, getting dirty.”
“Yes, well, could you take him upstairs and get him tidied up before dinner, Meredith,” his father said.
“Of course, dear. Excuse us.” His mother took him upstairs, her hand hard around his shoulder.
She opened his door and shoved him inside. He turned to stare at her fearfully.
“Just wait until your father is finished with his associates. Then he’ll deal with you, ungrateful little brat. Get in the shower and out of those clothes.”
Jameson waited for ages to be summoned to his father’s office. By the time he knocked on the door, he was close to peeing himself with nerves.
“Come in.”
He walked in. His father’s office was scary to his young mind. A big desk, large chairs, everything was in its place. Everything had its place. He’d fired their last maid after she’d moved some of his books around on the shelves.
His father leaned back against the desk, staring down at him. Jameson gulped, trying hard not to shift around nervously.
He knew that would make this worse.