Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
I still have to meet Grant once in a while, but at least he won’t show up and sabotage what I have here. Using my body as collateral means nothing. My physical form is only a weapon I wield to get where needed and another device of power.
Considering my upbringing, physical pain never fazed me and never will.
My moms think I got into an accident, thanks to Jethro, who at least kept his mouth shut for once.
Soon enough, we’re all sitting around the table staring at enough food to feed an army. Mom made Korean-style roast chicken and fusion salads incorporating kimchi, then added dozens of her side dishes that she brought over and stocked my fridge with—while shaking her head at my ‘bad eating habits.’
Apparently that’s because I don’t cook, and she hates that. Mom Jina thinks any food that’s not homemade is unhealthy and shouldn’t be consumed.
“Eat a lot.” She stuffs my bowl of rice full of chicken and kimchi, then does the same to Mom. “You, too.”
“Thank you for the food, sweetie.” Mom rubs her hand on the table.
I’m glad they both seem happy. Took them a long time to come this far.
Mom Jina was there since before I was born. In fact, she was there as her best friend when Mom nearly died from domestic abuse. They grew up together but separated around college. That’s when Mom had an arranged marriage with dear old Dad as his second wife.
My moms reunited around then, and Mom Jina fought for Mom’s freedom. They both did. Against Dad, and the people controlling my dad, and even that motherfucker Grant.
Even though Mom is his stepmom, she treated him well after his own mom took a rope to her throat because she couldn’t handle being with Dad anymore.
Honestly, if Mom hadn’t met Mom Jina again, she would’ve had the same fate as Grant’s mom.
She went through almost ten years of emotional and physical abuse, but she eventually managed to escape.
Which is why I’ll never drag them into the mess again.
“The food is amazing,” Carson says, and his voice sends both apprehension and appreciation through me.
I like how it’s deep but not too low, and now that he’s speaking cordially and being on his best behavior, he sounds smooth and hot.
No idea why I find him hot, but I do. His voice, his face, his body. It’s all so perfectly proportionate and tantalizing that I want to own every inch of him.
Lock him in a cage so only I can look at him.
My cock twitches and I lift another spoon of rice to ignore it. We’re literally in my parents’ presence, but all I keep thinking about is burying my dick in Carson.
Of all people, and even all men, it’s fucking Carson.
“I love kimchi.” He grins. “I first tried Korean food a couple of years ago at my cousin’s insistence, and I’ve been a fan ever since.”
“That shows good taste,” Mom Jina says with a note of approval.
I give her a look. Seriously, I expect her not to fall for his grandiose charms.
She clears her throat. “So, Gareth, how are you doing in school?”
“Top of my class, ma’am. 4.7 GPA.”
“That’s amazing,” Mom marvels. “You’re like a genius.”
“Not bad,” my other mom says. She has a weakness for studious people, and something tells me she likes the asshole now.
Fuck me sideways.
“Not amazing enough since I’m still not Professor Lockwood’s favorite.” He flashes them a small pout, acting like the most pitiful little monster on earth.
I scoop a spoonful of rice with chicken, my eyes on his pale green ones. “You’ll have to work harder for that, Carson.”
He narrows those eyes but only for a second before he takes a piece of cucumber and munches on it. Hard.
I know he’s trying to make me think he’ll bite my dick or something equally obnoxious, but it’s only managing to stimulate my cock into a state of arousal.
What a flirt.
“Oh, he must be your favorite,” Mom says. “He’s so well-mannered and loveable.”
“It’s okay. I think he just needs time,” Carson replies with a boyish smile.
Letting my lips curve with a grin, I say, “I think you’re the one who’s been stalling for time.”
He purses his lips and my grin widens. Why does messing with him bring me so much joy? I love his reactions around me and how he can’t really control them.
“Or maybe you already have another favorite,” Carson shoots back. “You can share with the table, Professor.”
I’d say Jones, but then I’d be putting a target on her back. I joke about it, but Carson is a little psycho—a young one, at that—so he gets impulsive, and I don’t want to be the reason behind the murder of a top student.
My gaze remains on him as I take a sip of wine. “I’m just waiting for you to do better and be my favorite.”