Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Damn it.” This is why I always, always made sure I had all my stuff in my bag. Hand lotion, makeup I always had everything. But lately I’ve been slipping. I mean why carry around all that shit when I have plenty at home? Home. I snort in disgust. Am I actually thinking of the club house as home? Rolling my eyes, I turn to take in the whole bathroom. It’s all white and clean—I swear you could eat off this white-tiled floor. What the hell? In the corner is an attractive French country white cabinet.
“Perfect.” My eyes take in the objects. “What the fuck?” I pick up a bar of some fancy rose-smelling soap. “That dick.” I start to grab all kinds of women’s shit. Olay face cream, Bath & Body Works coconut hand cream, and gold and pink bubble bath beads.
He lied.
Of course, he lied. Why would he tell me the truth? I’m nothing to him. Slamming the cabinet, I toss my towel on the floor and go to get dressed. “Never brought a woman to this house, huh?” Everything he says I believe. I almost want to take all that shit from the cabinet and dump it on his side of the bed. But that would make it obvious that I care and I’ve already humiliated myself enough by telling him I love him.
Groaning at the thought, I pull on a pair of tight white jeans and a pink T-shirt along with some white Converse sneakers. Absently I shake my head. I’m getting spoiled… soft even. First no hand lotion in my bag and now clean sneakers. I’m a shell of my former self. That stops today. I have a baby to think about and my dad. I reach behind me as a wave of dizziness—maybe a serious dose of reality—hits me and almost brings me to my knees. I’m pregnant. I’m actually pregnant. I never thought I would have this, and even though Blade doesn’t want it, I do. In fact, I’m thrilled. He or she will rule the world. With my brains and its father’s guts, nothing will be able to stop it.
Twirling around, I reach for my bag, making sure my knife is still there. I do this every day. Even though I’ve grown soft, I’m not stupid. For a split second I worried Jason might take it from me, but it’s still here. I grab my phone and text Dewey that I’m ready to get out of here. I should probably get something to eat. Not that I’m hungry, but I’m sure my baby is. Smiling at that thought, I make my way to the kitchen. I need to go shopping if I’m staying here. This is crazy. Everything in this house is perfect. It’s clean and white and smells like bleach. Wrinkling my nose I wonder, is it Pine-Sol? A large glass fruit bowl is in the middle of the wooden butcher block island and I take a banana. A couple of French doors overlook the deck and the view of the Valley below. Opening them, I step out and close my eyes. Only for a moment, I let the heat from the morning sun warm my face. For a moment, I actually allow myself the luxury of listening to the birds chirping. I can smell cut grass, and a lawn mower roars across the street. For the first time in my life, I like where I am. Jason’s house is amazing even with its white walls. I sigh and open my eyes to peel the banana and take a bite.
“Wow, even his bananas are perfect.” I can’t help but snicker. Seriously, it’s ripe and not mushy, firm and delicious. Kind of like his thick hard cock. My cheeks burn as I visualize his dick, fingers, lips, and I rub my legs together. Great, now my panties feel wet and gooey.
A buzz in my bag makes me come out of my dream land. Digging into it, I pop the last of the banana into my mouth. Absently I wonder if I should put on a clean pair of panties. I look at my phone: it’s a text from Dewey. Of course all it says is Outside and a smiley emoji.
“God, Dewey.” I roll my eyes and dump my phone back into my bag. Sometimes I wish I was Dewey. He’s always so… happy, never letting things get to him. Actually, the only time I’ve ever seen him upset is when I stabbed him. That nagging guilt starts to make me second-guess myself. Pushing my hair back I reason with myself. Dewey is fine. He’s not going to get hurt because Jason is not going to find out. I need to be smart, on my toes, and no one will be the wiser. And I will have a nice little nest egg just in case. Just in case… what? Just in case Blade really does only show up for birthdays and holidays? I almost laugh at how silly I was to even let that bother me. I’m gambling on the hope that he can’t stay away. He wants me. He may not love me, but he wants me.