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)
He folds the white handkerchief, then holds it to his nose on a long inhale before securing it back inside his jacket pocket.
I straighten in my seat as the driver turns the Mercedes toward a security shack at the entry of a wide street with high driveway gates and houses so far back, I catch only glimpses of terra-cotta roofs and the tops of palm trees. The driver announces our destination is ahead on the right and the knots in my belly tighten.
It’s not just the houses and the wealth, or the titillating unknown of playing the part of his daughter.
It’s this other game we seem to be playing. One for which I am completely unprepared.
chapter five
Hannah
Dietrich shifts back in his seat as we make our final approach to our destination, his gaze lingering on me as he traces his tongue across his bottom lip.
“I’ve tasted many delicacies in my life, but you, baby, are by far the sweetest. I’m losing my mind thinking of how good you will taste when I get to drink straight from the tap.”
I swallow the gathering saliva under my tongue as the flavor of my orgasm and his kiss lingers in my mouth.
Heat licks its way down my chest and across my cheeks as I remind myself yet again I’m playing a part.
The mind-numbing climax he pulled out of me while indulging in what I know is dark, incest sort of play has me buzzing and questioning how things will escalate from here.
Seems Jamie’s got no issues walking on the dark side.
The phone Dietrich gave me to use for the weekend buzzes and he nods toward the sound.
“Go ahead,” he says, and why I look to him for permission I’m not sure, but knowing he gives it, somehow doses me with a hit of dopamine.
It’s Brigid texting. I programmed her number into the phone when I got it, and it’s one of only three.
Daddy.
Sis.
And Denny. Not Dad. It wouldn’t do for someone to find that and start asking questions.
Sis: Don’t forget to light me up with an ‘I’m okay’ message every few hours. I’ll be mad crazed if you don’t, so…if you don’t want me emptying the last of the Cherry Garcia…
Me: Aye, aye, Captain. I’m doing…fine and you’ve been Garcia clean for a month. A day at a time, sis, a day at a time.
Sis: lol, righto matey. Oscar misses you, he bit dad on the butt when he didn’t bother to check the sofa before he sat down.
Me: hahaha okay, I gotta go, we are entering Stronghold…lol
Sis: okay, good luck and check in! I’ll keep my phone close. That Hawk dude is hot. Just sayin’. Old. But hot. Take a selfie with him and send it to me…but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…xoxo
Heat blazes though my center as Dietrich leans over to read the messages.
“She says I’m hot. Seems your pussy agrees.” He brushes his knuckles over the heat of my cheek. “I love when you blush. Reminds me of when you were little. You were sweet and naughty from the moment you were born.”
This roleplay is making me dizzy and I drop my chin to my chest, wondering how I’ll possibly get through the next two days with this gigantic riot going on in my center.
Dietrich reaches for the phone, holds it at arms length, leans back as I stare up into the screen and he taps the button taking a picture of us together.
“There, send it to her. And I want it as the wallpaper on the phone.”
I clench my inner muscles as the world starts spinning out of control, pressing my thighs together as I attempt to refresh my focus. The car pulls down a palm-lined driveway.
In Vegas, if you have an expansive lush, green lawn, that says more about your wealth than the car you drive or the clothes you wear, because keeping grass alive in this life-size Easy Bake Oven takes some heavy coin.
But this place is Architectural Digest worthy. Which is one of mine and Brigid’s other dreams. I’d love to design the interior of a home that earns a spread in that icon of a magazine.
The Spanish-modern monolith with terra-cotta roof peaks that looms ahead is elaborate but classic. Wide windows stretch along the front, offering a voyeuristic glimpse into a life I can only imagine.
This place reeks of the kind of money my father has been chasing his whole life. The realization that this job might be above my pay grade cracks through my needy daydreams. I sit up straighter, tensing the muscles along my spine as Dietrich’s warm hand steadies me.
“You are going to be fine, baby,” he rumbles, using that superhero sixth sense as the sedan rolls to a stop on the bumpy brick driveway. My gaze stalls on the thick veins shifting over the bones in the back of his hand.