Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I’m sorry, Mom.”
“No, I’m sorry. I should have believed you.” She sighs, and I can almost see her shaking her head in guilt and disappointment. “I should have done a lot of things, Gia, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too, Mom.”
I don’t want things to be the way they are with her forever. She’s my only family, and I’m hers.
“I’ll do better, and I’m going to get a job and get my own place. I promise.”
She doesn’t need to know that it won’t be in Angel Harbor. That’s a conversation for another day.
“We both have to do better, baby girl. We’re all we have in this world.”
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, Gia. Be safe. Preacher seems like a nice guy.”
Don’t they all seem like good guys in the beginning?
“I don’t know about that, but I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
“You’ll be home soon?”
“I will,” I assure her before ending the call and falling back against the bed. What a confusing fucking day, hell few days, really. All of it topped off by tonight with Preacher.
The most amazing sex I have ever had in my entire life, given to me by a man who sells human beings on an open market to freaks, weirdos, criminals, pedophiles, and evil motherfuckers.
Another sigh escapes as I close my eyes and think about Ro. It feels like ages have passed since I last spoke to her, so I whip out my phone and message her. “Miss you, bitch.”
She responds quickly. “Miss you back, hooker. How are you holding up?”
I send a thumbs up. “Being safe. Lots of hot, kinky sex with a biker who may or may not be into some shady shit.”
And it was that shady shit that gives me pause even as my body still hums from all the dirty things he did to it. And to me.
“Doesn’t shady shit kind of go hand in hand with being a biker?”
She has a point. “But this is super shady shit, the kind I won’t talk about over electronic devices.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I really do miss you.”
“You know where I am. Pry yourself from the biker dick, and let’s meet up.”
That’s exactly what I need. “I’ll text you tomorrow. Love you, babe.”
“Love you back, gorgeous. Enjoy the biker.”
I laugh and drop the phone onto the bed, wondering to myself when my life had become so interesting. And so fucked up.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Preacher
It can’t be true. Those words ring through my head for most of the night as Gia sleeps soundly beside me, perfectly still and completely satisfied. She sleeps with a small smile on her face that, unfortunately, tugs at my heart and makes me feel things I can’t afford to feel.
Not with the information she’s given me and the betrayal it implies.
The hot water of the shower beats down on my skin, washing away all traces of a night of ecstasy and orgasms. I step out and smell the ocean instead of Gia, wrapping a towel around my body to avoid distracting the horny little minx.
We have some serious shit to talk about, and the sight of my cock, already sporting a chub, will make it impossible for her to focus on anything but sucking me off and begging me to fuck her.
It's a perfect trait in a woman, but now is not the time.
Maybe later. Maybe not.
At the sight of the empty bed, my shoulders sink in relief or disappointment. I’m not sure. Gia’s not here, but I know after our post-orgasmic discussion last night that she hasn’t left. She’s probably hunting down coffee because she’s definitely not a morning person.
I dress quickly and find Gia in the kitchen, impatiently tapping her foot and fingers as if that would make the coffee brew faster.
“Morning.”
She gasps and turns with a wide smile. “Morning, handsome. Sleep well?”
No. “Like a baby,” I lie.
Her brows dip in skepticism. “Hmm, that must have been some other naked guy beside me doing a damn good impersonation of a rotisserie last night.”
With those words, she turns back to the coffee pot and continues tapping her foot, impatience coming off her in waves.
She’s wearing jeans today and they fit her like a fucking glove, showing off a fat ass, small waist and shapely legs that had my mind drifting to last night. All night.
When she turns, hugging a steaming mug of coffee, I can see the holes in the knees and thighs of her pants, giving off glimpses of flesh and ink. The black t-shirt is cropped at the waist and hanging off one shoulder, making her look even younger than her twenty-three years.
“Gia.”
She blinks and looks up at me with a blank expression.
“Preacher,” she sighs and sits at the kitchen table. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk.”
She nods and sips as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. “About?”
“What you showed me last night.”