Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
“I’m waiting for an answer, little girl,” he says, his voice dark and muddy.
My nipples tighten into painful points and I cross my arms to shield them from his view—and that’s when I remember I’m wearing a bikini under the slinkiest of beach cover ups. The sheer, white kimono barely brushes the tops of my thighs. When I put my outfit on, I didn’t expect to get out of the car until I reached the beach and this attire was acceptable. The tiny pink triangles over my breasts and feminine mound hardly seem sufficient now, with this powerful giant staring down at me.
“I’m the, um…neighbor. I live down the hall.” I’m not sure why I lie, exactly. Maybe because people tend to hate me because of what they perceive to be my easy street lifestyle. I’m not sure if I want to avoid Ezra’s hatred because I’ll be safer that way. Or if I just want to be a woman to him. Just a normal woman without a twenty-million-dollar trust fund.
It tends to make people weird.
After eighteen years of everyone categorizing me as a spoiled brat upon hearing my last name, I just want to be someone else for five minutes.
“What are you doing here?” Ezra prompts again.
“I’m watering the plants,” I respond, smoothly, gesturing to the dying greenery on the television stand. “Your mother asked me to come by. I’ve…never seen you here before.”
His tongue slides with interminable slowness across his lower lip, those silver-gray eyes hungry on my thighs. “Just got out of lockup about an hour ago,” he growls.
“Oh.” My stomach flips. “How nice.”
“That’s not the word I’d use after seven years.” He steps forward and I notice the outline of his erection. It’s growing larger and more prominent with every move he makes in my direction. And I can’t help it, I’m…excited. Ever since I was a young girl, my parents, teachers and friends have all called me rebellious. I’ve always thought them categorizing me that way was ridiculous. Maybe they were just boring. But no. I’m obviously a full-on crazy pants. Men haven’t really interested me until now. This very second. I’m drawn to the mayhem in his eyes. He wants to do something to me and I must be insane for wanting to know more. To experience it.
It’s possible I’ve just been sheltered in my daddy’s mansion too long.
Whatever the reason for my body tightening in odd places, I find myself lifting my chin and rasping my thighs together for his viewing pleasure. “Do you have plans now that you’re out—”
“How old are you?” His big chest heaves and he jabs the air with a blunt finger. “Is that pussy legal?”
The body part in question squeezes at his vulgar language. “I’m eighteen.”
His whispers a thank you up at the ceiling. “Look, little girl. I’m in a bad fucking way here.” He comes closer until he’s towering over me, and without looking down, I sense him fondling his huge arousal through his jeans. “I don’t go around asking little girls to fuck. Not before prison and not after. But those years inside caught up with me the second you walked in. I’ve never seen anything so goddamn pretty.” He drags a finger down between my breasts. “If I don’t get my nut off inside you, they might as well put me back in prison because I’m going to lose my mind.”
CHAPTER TWO
Ezra
And here I thought doing time had robbed me of every last ounce of decency. It must not be true, because I’m definitely ashamed of myself, talking to this fresh-faced girl like she’s a fellow prison inmate. Honestly I’m not sure what’s gotten in to me. I had no plans to find a female today, even though I’ve been celibate for seven long years. No, after dropping off my stuff at my mother’s house, the plan was to get a cold beer and watch the ballgame.
Then she walked in.
I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve never seen anything so pretty. Before, during or after prison. She’s a tight little brunette princess with high tits and eyes that spell trouble. Yeah. This one would keep a man on his fucking toes. There’s about a million thoughts taking place in her head right now and she thinks it’s not obvious. It is.
I want every last one of those thoughts to be about me.
My cock isn’t just hard out of lust. It’s pressing painfully against my zipper because I want to lay this girl down and mark her as mine. My skin is hot, blood thickening by the second, an involuntary tick in my cheek. Get her wrapped around your cock. Make her yours. There has to be a thousand men trying to lock this sweet thing down. I’m not about to let her leave when someone else could lay claim. And they would—in a heartbeat. I’d take her away from whoever stole her, of course, but the thought of another man breathing near her makes my blood pressure skyrocket. I’m sure as hell not letting it come to that.