Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“I...I don’t like how I look,” I whisper.
His eyes move to mine, and he says, his voice low and raspy, “There isn’t a single force in this world, that could ever make you look anything but perfect to me, Ellie. Nothing you could do to your body, would ever make me see you any differently. You’re beautiful. And you’re mine.”
He shuffles around a bit more, removing his pants, and then he’s over me again, lips on mine, big body positioned right where I need him. My legs go up around his hips and he probes me, lightly at first, and then he’s sliding inside me, setting my body to a dull burn as he stretches and fills me. I whimper, and clutch his shoulders, trying to bring myself closer to him, trying to feel more of the incredible pleasure he’s offering.
My body stretches around him, and when he’s fully in, he drops his forehead to mine, and stares at me. “If you need me to stop, for whatever reason, at any point. You tell me to stop, do you understand?”
“I don’t want you to stop,” I say, reaching up and touching the scar on his face.
Did he get that because of me?
He turns his head slightly into my touch, closing his eyes for a moment, and then he begins to move. Dragging his hard length in and out of me, slowly, clutching me like I’m the very source of his existence. He moves at that slow, agonizing pace, until my body is heating up from the inside, building and building until I can’t take it anymore. I gasp his name and an orgasm tears through my body, taking every single inch of me.
I gasp his name, over and over, and my head tips back into the pillow, my back arching, my body burning with pure desire. Slater moves faster now, his jaw tight, his muscles bulging. With a ragged groan, he joins me, clutching me tightly, rasping my name, pulsing inside of me until there’s nothing left.
And then, after a few moments, he rolls to his side, slipping out of me, but taking me with him. I’m in his arms, my face buried in his armpit, big bicep curled around me. And I feel so safe, I feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life, and I never want to leave. Frustration grips my chest, and I battle to try and remember moments like these. I know there would have been some. Many, even.
Slater, he feels like home.
And I don’t ever want to leave.
~*~*~*~
THEN – SLATER
The debt is nearly paid.
Six months I’ve been working to clear Lincoln’s name, and earn back what he took. I have three jobs left, and then Walter has agreed to let me go, clearing us both. Between working and doing this, my relationship with Ellie has become strained. I don’t see her as much as I want, and I just wait for the moment I’m cleared of this, so I can make it up to her, because I don’t want to lose her.
I can’t lose her.
Fuck, she’s everything to me.
I’ve just finished up with another deal, and am heading home. It’s past midnight, and I don’t expect anyone to be awake, but when I arrive, Lincoln is sitting on the front steps, staring at some papers in his hands. I get out of my truck, not liking how he looks right now. He looks worn, exhausted. Like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he simply can’t take it anymore.
“Whatever has that look on your face, it ain’t good,” I mutter when I reach him.
He looks up. “That’s because it ain’t good, brother.”
“What’s goin’ on?”
He exhales, and shoves a piece of paper at me. I stare at it, and the big red sign stamped on the front. Final notice. For our mortgage.
I knew we were struggling, I knew this, but I didn’t know we were struggling like this.
“What is this?” I ask, staring at him, already knowing the answer.
“It’s exactly what it looks like, Slater. They’re going to take our house, because I don’t have the fuckin’ money to pay our mortgage, and I haven’t been for months.”
What.
The.
Fuck.
I don’t understand. If there was a problem with cash flow, to this extreme, why in the hell didn’t he tell me?
“What the fuck, Lincoln?” I say, shoving the paper back at him. “Seriously? What the actual fuck? Why the hell isn’t it getting paid? You told me we were scraping by, barely, but we were. If the mortgage wasn’t getting paid, why in the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“Because, Slater,” he roars, “You are already fuckin’ dealin’ with my last issue. Wasn’t about to tell you we had another one.”
“So you let it go?” I roar back, reaching up and grabbing my hair with my hands, frustration, anger and panic bubbling in my chest. “You just let it fuckin’ get this bad!”