Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
I want him.
I need him.
My heart beats fast, my legs quiver with need, and my hands want to pull him by his hair so he has no choice but to kiss me thoroughly.
Kiss me, goddamn you.
“Rich girl,” he says, his lips still brushing mine.
“Hmmm...” is all I manage.
“Goodnight,” he says, then pulls away.
I’m too shocked to stop him, to tell him to come back.
Does he not want me? Because I know I want him.
I run out the door just in time to see him running down the street.
“Asshole,” I yell.
I hear his chuckle as he sprints away.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
The man keeps turning me down, and I keep coming back like some sort of addicted drug addict.
What is it about August that grips me so?
Because I sure as shit know it’s not his damn personality. Asshole, tease that he is.
Stripping, I climb into the shower and try to rid myself of his lips.
It’s useless.
He’s all I dream about when I finally fall into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 12
August
“August.”
I turn at the sound of my name and see my mother standing on the other side of the street. Seeing her was bound to happen, eventually. But I didn’t expect it to be tonight. I guess that’s what I get for choosing to walk home instead of fucking Rylee every which way to Sunday.
The old bitch crosses the street, and I can tell straight away she’s drunk. Her feet are unstable, and her eyes are glassy. Alcohol is her chosen poison, but that’s not to say she doesn’t love to dabble in everything there is that she can afford. It's one of the reasons I started working for Josh all those years ago, to keep her in alcohol and drug money.
“August, baby, oh God… look at you.” She reaches out to touch my face, but I step back so she can’t touch me. “August, what’s wrong? Haven’t you missed me?”
No, not in the fucking slightest.
I don’t answer her. Instead, I turn and continue my path home.
“I heard you got mother’s house. You should sell it. We could use that money.” Hence the reason my grandmother never left it to her. “August, don’t you ignore me, son.”
When I don’t answer her again, she says, “Oh, come on, August, why are you being so rude to your mother?” I turn to see Josh leaning on his car, right next to my mother. Of course, they’re together.
A car pulls in front of me. It’s Rylee. She glances at me, then to my mother, who’s staring at her car. “Get in.” I do because the alternative is not what I want. “You know her?” she asks as she pulls away.
Josh watches us go with a smirk on his face.
“No.”
“Okay,” she says. “Look, I’m sorry for… before.” She doesn’t go into any more detail. I can see she’s showered, and she smells like strawberries.
Now I’m craving strawberries.
“What? For asking me to fuck you?”
She gasps at my bluntness, and her hands squeeze the steering wheel tightly. She’s dressed in what appears to be a long shirt. I can’t help but check out her legs.
“Why did you come?”
“I realized you didn’t have a ride. It was rude of me to let you leave, considering you don’t live around the corner.”
We sit in silence as I stare out the window.
“That was my mother,” I tell her as we arrive at my house.
“You aren’t close?”
“No. She’s an alcoholic and a druggie. So no, I stay away from her. Far away.”
Rylee comes to a stop, and I get out of her car. Closing the door, I walk around to hers and open it. “Come in.”
“I don’t have shoes on. I ran to the car from the shower.” She touches her wet hair, and I realize she didn’t even dry it. The back of her shirt is soaked.
“Get out of the car, rich girl,” I command.
She turns the car off and steps one foot out, followed by the other. I bend and put my arms under her knees, then pick her up so she doesn’t have to walk barefoot to the front door. She squeals when I do it but places her arms around my neck as I carry her bridal-style to the front of the house.
“Do you know why you’re coming in?” I ask, glancing down at her. I like the feel of her in my arms, so much so that I don’t want to put her down when we get to the door. But of course, I do.
“I have no idea with you anymore,” she replies truthfully.
As soon as the front door is unlocked, I reach for her face, sliding my hands on either side of it and touching my lips to hers. She opens with need the minute my tongue demands attention, and I shift backward, lifting her so her feet wrap around my waist. I feel her ass underneath her shirt and squeeze it as I kick the door shut.