Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
My lips were on her throat, the swells of her exposed tits, any piece of bare skin I could get to. I’d wanted to bury myself in her for so damn long, but what made it worse, I wanted more than just this now. I wanted her.
I pulled her thong down her legs, tossing it to the side of the room as she unfastened my jeans.
“God, I fucking want you,” I groaned, biting her neck.
“Yeah, you do.”
Her fingers wrapped around my dick, and that touch alone was almost enough to make me come. And through the lust-filled haze, my conscience ate away at me. I could not fuck her when she was this drunk.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked.
I bit back a groan as she worked her tight fist over my shaft. “I’m not fucking you when you’re shitfaced.”
“I’d fuck you sober, anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
She tugged my dick closer to her bare pussy, and my jaw set. This was a form of temptation akin to the inner circle of hell. And drunk, she was the devil.
“I’m not fucking you tonight, baby girl.”
I slipped my hand between her legs, and holy shit, was she wet. It took all of thirty seconds before she tightened around my fingers. That was enough to send me hurtling over the edge.
I sank my teeth into her shoulder on a groan, coming in her hand. And when I pulled away, she slipped her fingers between her lips and sucked me off.
“You’re seriously trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Couldn’t fuck you if I did that, could I?” She smirked, then hopped off the desk and snatched a bottle of liquor on her way out of the office.
She was absolutely going to kill me...
An hour later, she could barely walk, which was why I was carting her inebriated ass up the stairs to her room.
I closed the door, and just when I was about to put her on the bed, she swallowed. Then swallowed again, focusing on a spot on the wall.
“Are you gonna be sick?” I asked.
She nodded, and I hurried across the room to the bathroom.
“Oh…” She heaved.
“No. Wait! Wait….”
The second I placed her in front of the toilet, she puked.
“I told you, you were gonna throw up.”
She lifted her middle finger and leaned farther over the bowl.
I pulled her hair away from her face to keep the vomit out of it, and she made a weak attempt to swat me away.
“Go...away.”
“And leave you in here to pass out in puke? Nah…”
She groaned, threw up some more, then flushed the toilet and slumped against the tiled wall. “This is the worst birthday ever.” She wiped at the mascara streaking her cheek. “And now you’re watching me puke.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face before dropping to the floor beside her. “It’s no big deal.”
“He forgot.” She traced a finger along the grout in the tile, then rested her head on my shoulder, and something in my chest went tight.
“Yeah. Well, he’s an asshole.”
“I shouldn’t even care.”
“But you do. And that’s fine.” I knew that to be true. I hated my dad’s ass, but over the years, I’d still found myself trying to make him proud. Trying to get a moment of attention. “Come on, you should go to bed.”
I pushed up, helping her to her feet before I grabbed the purple toothbrush I figured was hers, pumped toothpaste on it, then passed it to her and I left her to it.
I ran a hand through my hair while I paced in front of her bed. Pissed as hell at her dad. Angry he’d hurt her. Furious I couldn't fix it. And I’d never cared enough about anyone else outside of my mom and Arlo to ever give a shit.
My phone beeped. Then beeped again.
Hendrix: Where are you at, dickweed?
Hendrix: Wolf and me made a bet you’re getting your dick sucked.
“You gave me a Push Pop.”
I shoved my phone in my pocket and turned around to Drew standing in the doorway of her bathroom. The straps of her dress hung off her shoulders, and the look on her face was pitiful.
“Yeah…”
“It’s the only thing that made me happy today.”
And that was sad as shit. “There’s a Porsche in your drive and my Push-Pop made you happy. That’s messed up. That Push-Pop was two bucks.”
“The car’s pink. My mom doesn’t even know I hate pink.” She pushed away from the doorframe, staggered to her bed, and collapsed on top of the covers. “But you know I like rainbow Push-Pops. Not grape or cherry. But rainbow.”
I was pretty damn sure, her dad forgetting her birthday had to make her feel invisible. I sank to the bed beside her, rubbing a hand over her exposed back. I didn’t want her to feel invisible. “I’ll buy you all the rainbow Push-Pops you want, baby girl.”