Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Yeah, she’s too young for me. So what?
I shove the folder her way and hand it off so her quivering fingers brush mine and the contact sends a jolt of heat up my arm. Her touch is soft, and I can’t remember that sensation being quite like this. With a nod, she sinks down onto the couch and opens the folder on her lap.
Her brown eyes narrow as she studies the new identity inside. An unsteadiness takes me as I watch. I settle onto the plastic chair to my left, manspreading to offer my errant dick some breathing room as I enjoy the vision of the angel in front of me. She’s far too fucking young for an old fuck like me but my dick and my reason are not on speaking terms at the moment.
The ancient as fuck old black and white fuzz ball of a dog wheezes to his feet when I sit, stumbling out from under the chair, his milky white eyes focused on me as Denny sucks in a breath.
“Watch out—” He starts as the dog shifts at my feet. “He’s mean.”
“Uh huh,” I say as I reach down and snap at the floor. The dog wags its crooked tail, limping and tripping as he turns in a little circle then collapses over the toe of my shoe on a relaxed sigh.
My angel glances at me from beneath long eyelashes. “That’s Shelby. He hates men. Someone tied him up by his back leg for years because he was trying to bite everyone. That’s why he limps like that.”
“People suck,” I growl, wondering if I can find out who the shitstain was and bring him my own brand of justice as I give the now sleeping dog a two fingered scratch behind his ear. “Make him feel safe. He’ll forget all about the past.”
“You have a knack.” Her eyes brighten. “We could use you at the shelter.”
And there it is. Fucking fate, you filthy motherfucker.
Her gaze locks on my stiffy, which is battling its way from down my pant leg toward my hip, then finally finding its less uncomfortable resting place straight up to the left of my zipper as I choke back a grunt. There’s no way she didn’t just see that. The swollen fucker is visible from the top of the Stratosphere sky needle.
She throws me a dead eye stare, and I make no move to cover my boner. For a second, it’s just us, then she blushes on a smirk and goes back to the file.
Finally, she closes it, folding her hands, staring me down as the A/C in the ceiling above strains under the oppressive heat outside and that fucking fly returns, buzzing straight past me on its way toward Hannah’s father.
“So, is there anything not in the file that I should know about… Jamie.” It’s a challenge wrapped in a question, but her voice is light and airy, like that fucking ocean breeze in my vision. My chest constricts like I’m having a heart attack.
The image of her sitting at the table with me rushes back, only this time, it’s like a vice grip on my balls because in this version, she’s naked and my cum is dripping off her chin while she smiles with drops of my jizz dotting her breasts, mixing with the milk streaming from her palm-sized cotton candy pink nipples.
I imagine spinning her around, pressing her cheek to the table and taking handfuls of those big milkers. Her swollen belly is sexy as fuck as I sink my dick into her tight warmth, securing her hands behind her back while pounding into her warm cunt like I’m trying to fight my way out the other side.
Daddy’s needy, baby. You tease me then wonder why I have to do this. I have to get off using your hot little teenage hole because you make me. Fuck, you make me do it.
Jesus, this needs to stop. I can’t let my dick control things or I’m going to start making stupid decisions.
I clear my throat, ripping my eyes from her tits. “Nothing else. Memorize what’s in there. Anything else you can make up as we go along. Don’t reference your real life at all.”
She squints on a smirk and I start counting her freckles.
“You’re Daddy’s best girl,” I mutter, so fucking lost in my fantasy I barely notice the look from Greg and her father. “Gotta play my part. You’re mine.”
“You mean for the weekend,” she says, shifting on the yellow cushion.
Fuck, no, I want to tell her. The weekend? This is the rest of our fucking lives, little girl.
“Sure, let’s play pretend for the weekend. That’s the job. I’m your Daddy. Get used to calling me that.”
She worries her teeth on her bottom lip, her eyes drifting closed, chest rising, lungs filling, then she holds that breath, her peaked nipples calling out for my teeth as I start counting freckles again.