Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“So he lied?”
“Yep. And I got suspended pending the investigation.”
“What happened?”
“I was exonerated. My mom had to take out a second mortgage to pay for the attorney, though. And I felt like…an asshole. I risked everything my mom had sacrificed for me over a man.”
“You were young.”
She nods. “And I learned a hard lesson. But when I came back, no one apologized. I was so alone. That whole thing really tested me. I don’t know if it’s relevant to what you’re going through, but I just…wanted to let you know I’m not perfect. Far from it. I stumble and fall. I hurt. I even just got dumped a few months ago and it hurt like a mother.”
“What kind of a dumbass would dump you?”
Percy grins and holds out a fist for a bump.
“Damn right, girl,” she says with a laugh.
The tension has faded now. Fatigue hits me hard and fast, which tends to happen when I relax. I bury my face in my hands, rubbing my tired eyes.
When I put my hands back in my lap and sit up, I look at Percy.
“I had a different life before,” I say, surprising myself with the admission. “Until three years ago.”
I can’t say more. Not if I want to keep it together—and I do.
“Are you on the run from memories?” Percy asks softly.
The question hits home. I nod again.
Realization dawns on her face. “And dreams. You don’t want to dream about the past, so you don’t sleep.”
“I do sleep, just…not much.”
Percy returns the wave of a passing walker.
“I understand you a lot more now, Abby,” she says. “Thank you for opening up to me.”
“I’m doing okay. I just have to keep busy. And that approach has served me well. It’s how I built Cypress Lane.”
“I think you’re gonna crash eventually.”
I scoff. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“When’s the last time you did something for you? Something fun?”
I consider. “I had a night of great sex in Chicago three weeks ago.”
She smiles. “Touché. Been a lot longer than that for this girl.”
“I’m getting by, honestly,” I say. “And I feel like…if I need to talk, I can talk to you.”
“Absolutely. Anytime. You’ve got my cell. Call me anytime, day or night.”
“Okay. Thanks. And…same. You know, if you get laid and want to tell someone…or whatever.”
Percy laughs and gets up from the bench. “Alright, girl. Let’s go get in some ass-whoopin’.”
I balk. “I thought Whoop-Ass Wednesday was off this week?”
“Nah, just delayed.”
I blow out a breath as I stand up. “Fine.”
“So you’re seeing someone?” she asks as we walk over to the weight rack.
“No, it was just a one-night thing.”
“Ah. So the sex wasn’t that great, then.”
“No, it was amazing. Like…well, just really good. I’ll leave it at that.”
“And you don’t want to get any more of that?”
I shake my head. “Not if it requires dating.”
“Because a guy buying you dinner before you have amazing sex would be the worst.” She rolls her eyes.
“Less talking about my sex life, more ass-whoopin’ please.”
She shrugs. “You got it. But remember, you asked for it.”
I look at her expectantly.
“Give me fifty burpees.”
I cringe and then silently begin. Even burpees are better than talking about why I don’t date.
Chapter Eight
Luca
My hand is wound around a thick, silky section of long blond hair. I groan softly as her mouth works up and down my dick, so wet and warm I can hardly fucking stand it. I’m dying to shoot my load, but at the same time I don’t want this to end.
When she looks up, I meet Abby’s blue eyes for just a second before she climbs on top of me, her pussy sheathing my cock so tightly I nearly lose it.
She rides me then, hard and fast. There’s nothing sexier than this woman using my body to chase her own orgasm. Much as I want to give it to her, she’s not seeking pleasure from me; Abby just takes it all on her own.
“Uncle Luca! Wake up!”
I wake up in an instant, sitting up and looking around.
“Uncle Luca, get up,” Emerson says from the doorway. “It’s Muffins with Mom day. We have to go.”
I bunch the covers up over my lap to cover my morning wood. Even though Emerson’s in the doorway of my bedroom, I don’t want her seeing that.
“Huh?” I say, turning to face her.
Her tone is exasperated. “Uncle Luca. Muffins with Mom starts at 6:45.”
I glance over at the clock. 6:25. Fuck. My alarm is set for its usual time of 6:30.
“Did I forget to put this on the schedule?” I ask in a groggy tone as I get out of bed.
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t remember you telling me about this...what is it again?”
“Sheila’s here. She remembered.” My niece gives me a frustrated glare. “And all I know is there’s muffins.”
“And moms?”
Her lips curve down in a frown and she shrugs. My heart breaks into a thousand fucking pieces.