Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 34938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
“Ah, shit,” I say out loud to myself as I finally spot the house number. I realize the driveway isn't empty.
There's a car already parked in the driveway, so I pull in next to it. Checking the clock I realize I am a full hour late.
This isn't how I wanted to start this.
I fold down my visor and I fix my hair. I may as well take a few seconds to reapply some lip gloss. It can’t hurt at this point. Staring at myself in the mirror, I give myself a pep talk.
You’ve got this. No problem at all. This is going to be easy.
Letting out a weighted breath, I climb out of my car, and adjust my blouse. Running my fingers through my hair, I clear my throat and stiffen my shoulders. I want to come in bold, strong, I don't want the new tenant to think I'm afraid or nervous.
One of the rules to success from my father; always project confidence. If you bring it, they'll feel it, and they'll know you mean business.
Walking up the driveway, I head for the front door. I stand still for a moment, debating if I should knock or just walk in.
My father's voice rings in my head, 'Whose house is this? They don't own it. Walk right in.'
Music coming from the backyard deck catches my ear, so I follow the sound around to the back of the house. Pulling the gate open, I step into the backyard and see a man lying on his stomach in one of the lounge chairs.
His bare back glistens under the warm rays of the sun. His entire body is sparkling like a giant gem, and I suddenly can't breathe.
Stopping short, my body goes up in flames. Salt and pepper hair, sun kissed skin, his back full of hard muscles, with broad shoulders and a lean waist. I can tell he's on the older side, and that just makes him even hotter.
I love older men.
They have their shit together. They're mature and they know what they want. Unlike the boys I knew in school, or the loser my mother ran off with after my parents divorced. He was a wannabe rock star, a guy with no real ambitions other than to mooch off his parents, and my mother, to make his dream come true.
I hated him the moment I first saw, even though I was a little girl and knew barely anything about life or relationships. But I could see the way that he’d ask my mom for money, or sit on his ass and eat our food all day while my mom busted her ass working two jobs to support us. I could tell he was a man who contributed nothing; not just to my mother’s life, but also to the world. He ruined my life, my mother's, and for some reason, she's still too hung up on him to see him for the loser he is.
After all these years of playing music with a crappy band in dive bars, he's got nothing to show for it.
I'm not going to end up like that. Working hard to fund my loser boyfriend. Nope, not me. I'm going to find a man who has his shit together, and I'm never letting him go. Simple as that.
The man on the lounge chair taps his foot to the beat coming out of his phone, drawing my eyes down his back and to his muscular ass. He clenches his ass, and my heart jumps.
This guy looks damn hot, and I haven't even seen his face yet.
In a pair of green cargo shorts, his head is resting on his forearms, facing the water in front of him. He's rocking softly to the music, sunglasses covering his eyes and his face tilting toward the water.
My mind starts to run instantly, images of this sexy man lifting himself off the chair and seeing me, his eyes hooded as he licks his lips because he likes what he sees. This daydream pulls me in, and I'm happy to follow where it leads me.
With a sharp jawline, maybe there's even a little stubble covering his cheeks. I smile lightly and entice him to come closer. His five o'clock shadow darkens his skin, and my thighs buzz, willing and ready to take on the sandpaper feel. That shadow is just enough, it's something that'll scrape roughly against my skin as he licks his way down my body, but not enough to cause too much pain, just enough to let me know he’s there.
The vision is clear, crisp, and real. It's so real, I can even smell his musky cologne, the notes of sandalwood and juniper. My nerves fire off inside, sending tingles through my body.
The movie keeps playing, slowing time to almost nonexistent. I'm in my own head, trapped by a man I don't even know, who's probably twice my age.