Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
She’s oblivious to the bartender’s lecherous look as she yells over the sound of the country music and the growing crowd. “Make that two blowjobs.” She holds up her fingers in a ‘V’ shape, crinkling her nose with an impish bite of her full bottom lip, and I’m gone.
On a hard exhale, I nod to the bartender, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a twenty, slapping it down on the counter and fighting off the invasive pounding thoughts of how tight her pussy must be.
She’s swaying a little already. I’m going to let her have this one last shot, but after that, she’s cut off. From the time I sat down, I counted her drinks. She threw back four shots while I watched and who knows how many before I got here.
I’ll be her bodyguard until I get her home safely, whether she likes it or not, but too much is too much, and the idea of her hurt in any way makes me unreasonably angry. I swear, if she fell down and skinned her fucking knee, I’d take a jackhammer to the sidewalk and destroy it for hurting her.
The bartender slides the two whipped cream topped shots on the bar top, and I roll my eyes. He scoops up the twenty as I wave him off in a keep the change and get the fuck away motion. As I look down, the thought that this delightful curvy angel might not be old enough to drink sinks in.
“They card you when you came in here?” I growl, unsure why I care if she’s underage. Unless, of course, she’s under-under age. Because that would make me a depraved asshole and a possible felon if my control snaps, which, right now, is quite possible.
My mating instinct doesn’t seem to care about her age, but I remind myself it doesn’t matter. I’m not touching her.
“I’m twenty-one, big brother. Don’t worry, I’m legal. Barely.” She adds a wink and my cock practically comes through my zipper. “Bottoms up.”
She raises one of the shots toward my face, but even with her arm fully extended, her hand barely reaches my chin. I fill my lungs until they hurt as I accept the ridiculous drink, unsure how I’m ever going to live without seeing her again.
Her scent cuts through the smell of beer and greasy bar food like a sweet, dark Michigan cherry.
Cherry. That word seems to keep coming up, and it’s not helping.
Watching her lick the whipped cream from the top of the shot glass is fucking life changing. I scoop the whipped cream off the top of the shot and throw it to the floor, then bring it to my lips and swallow the sticky sweet liquid then slamming the glass on the counter as she tips hers to her for a tentative sip keeping her glazed eyes pinned to my face.
She lowers the glass an inch, a touch of the leftover white cream decorating her upper and lower lips, and all I want to do is replace it with my own warm, white cream.
“This is my third blowjob tonight,” she whispers with another wink and a deep breath, which makes her tits rise in the tight, tied up cowgirl plaid shirt, delivering another sledgehammer blow to my resolve.
I reach down and manhandle my dick, trying to find a less painful position for the swollen motherfucker as she downs the cream-covered liquor, and I swear, I already want to marry this girl.
But I can’t. I promised myself when Hailey’s mother passed away, and I took on full custody, I wouldn’t let a woman divide my attention. No evil stepmothers for my little girl. When it comes to her, I will never compromise.
She will have the upbringing I wish I had.
Being a single dad has been the best and most challenging part of my life, but I’m all in. I knew from the moment we met when she was three, I was going to dedicate the rest of my life to her.
Her mother, who I only vaguely remembered, offered to do a paternity test, but I didn’t need it. I knew in my heart that Hailey was mine. She has my green eyes and the same crooked smile as my little brother.
She is my number one, forever. First priority, no matter what my dick might be trying to convince me otherwise right now.
Even so, I glare at all the men watching Daisy, letting them know she’s off limits. Just because I won’t be deflowering her, doesn’t mean I’m going to let some other fucker have that privilege.
I reach down and run the pad of my thumb over her top lip, swiping away some left-over cream, then bring it to my mouth to suck it off. The first moment I saw her sitting on that bar stool, I was captivated. Her soft body would feel perfect under me. Diving face first between her legs would turn me inside out.