Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Things like . . . Why the fuck did it bother me so much anyway? I was only trying to protect her, just like her brother had wanted me to.
Now, I don’t need to keep Sarah in my house anymore.
But what I’ve been doing to her . . . I worry that I’m only making things worse for her, that she’s only getting stronger and stronger cravings for more extreme shit.
And now, if I let her go home . . . What if she goes online in search of a stranger to dominate her?
I shouldn’t care. This isn’t supposed to be about me.
But . . . I do.
She’s quickly becoming my new addiction, and I can already feel myself getting lost in her. I keep craving her.
And for the first time in a long time . . . I start to wonder . . . Maybe it won’t be such a bad idea for me to actually make her mine. Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can stay by her side and continue to take care of her, always.
Sarah
As the days go by, I crave Luca more and more.
But it’s not just his touch that I miss anymore—not just his lips on my body, or his cock in my pussy.
I want to know the man behind his tough-guy mask. I want to open up his skull and take a peek inside.
On the other hand, I know that I’d just be digging a deeper hole for myself.
There’s no way something like that won’t just get me more attached to him. Everything about Luca that I’ve learned, so far, I like. I can’t see myself taking a closer look at him and not liking what I find.
So, I shouldn’t.
But just like any other addict, I crumple under the slightest pressure.
“Luca,” I say over breakfast one morning. Dust motes shimmer in the slice of light streaming in through the window blinds. “Tell me about your life in San Francisco.”
“What’s there to tell?”
“I can think of some things . . . if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” Luca says casually as he cuts off a piece of cherry pancake and sticks it into his mouth.
Hmm . . . I don’t remember it being this easy to get him to talk.
“Tell me about your parents,” I say. “Do they live there?”
“I have no idea where they are, or whether they’re still alive, and that’s the way I like it.”
“Pretty strong words there.”
Luca shrugs. “I don’t really care. They didn’t beat me up or anything, but they didn’t care much about me either. They shouldn’t have had me.”
“Same. My parents shouldn’t have had me either. They would’ve been happier apart.” I pause and stare at the glittering dust motes. “Well, maybe my dad would’ve been happier without my mom. I can’t even imagine my mom as a happy person.”
Luca chuckles.
“Next question. Tell me why you spent time in prison.”
He groans. “Why does everybody want to know about that?”
“It makes you seem all dangerous and mysterious,” I say. “Besides, people probably want to know if you’re a sexual deviant and if they need to keep their kids away from you.”
Luca raises his eyebrow. “Well, we both know I am a sexual deviant.”
“Yeah.” I giggle. “But seeing as nobody else does, I doubt that was the reason you got in prison. I would’ve heard about a sex offender in town a long time ago. Every time I go to the bakery, Bertha keeps me updated on all the gossip.”
“That’s true.” After a short pause, he says, “I had some coke on me.”
“That’s it?”
“What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’ What kind of sick crimes did you think I’d done?” Luca asks, an offended little vein popping up on his temple.
“I don’t know. People seem to be scared of you.”
“Oh. Actually, that used to happen before the prison thing, too.”
I laugh.
“The amount of coke I had . . . It was quite a lot,” Luca admits. “I was dealing.”
“Did you leave San Francisco to forget about prison?” I ask.
“No. I spent some time there trying to get my life back to normal. I apprenticed at this tattoo shop. And then later I just thought it’d be better to strike out on my own.”
“Because you’ll get more money that way?” I ask.
“That’s one of the reasons.”
“But not the only one?”
“But not the only one,” he confirms.
“Want to tell me about the main reason?”
“Maybe.” The corners of Luca’s lips curl up into a cocky smile.
“Maybe?” I ask.
“Yeah. If you try something for me, then I’ll reward you with the story.”
“What is it?” I can't think of anything I wouldn't do for Luca at this point. Everything he's asked for, I’ve given.
“How do you feel about getting a piercing?” he asks.
“I have piercings,” I say, pointing to my ear lobes.
“Not like those. I’m talking about a piercing . . . down there,” he says, his gaze falling to the juncture of my legs.