Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Why not? Why didn’t your mom ask him for help? And how the fuck do I not know who’s in your family after all the research I’ve done?”
His exasperation and confusion is actually kind of cute. Obviously I don’t tell him that. Instead, I shrug while tracing some of the tattoos on his arm.
“Dad apparently buried any trail of him and his link to our family before he ever started working for you. Unless you have someone better than him on your team, you wouldn’t have found anything.”
It’s crazy to think my father could have solved all our problems with a few keystrokes by simply hacking some rich people’s accounts. Yet he didn’t. Instead, he tried to live an honest life. Or so I thought. Now I’m just confused with the whole deal.
Drex is staring at me, and I remember I’m supposed to be explaining yet another hidden family member he was unaware of.
“My uncle is my dad’s brother, and they’ve hated each other for years. He went to law school, and my dad was constantly bailing him out of financial jams, thanks to all those student loans he was struggling to pay back. Then, when my uncle’s law degree finally started paying off, he refused to pay my father back the money he owed. Dad was working a lot and so was Mom. They had four kids and it wasn’t easy as an accountant—not a major one either—and a waitress to make ends meet. I was too young to work at the time. Dad and Uncle Marshall had a major falling out about the money he owed Dad. After that, Dad said he was done with him.”
He slides his hand up my leg then back down, as though he’s trying to keep me relaxed.
“After Dad died, Mom asked Uncle Marshall for help. He told her to put me to work—I was already working. He didn’t even come to my sister’s funeral back when she died. Her death was when finances really got tight at home because of all the medical bills and funeral costs. Uncle Marshall came to Dad’s funeral, but he didn’t stick around. I’m not even sure why he showed up.”
“His loss,” Drex says softly. “I’m glad he didn’t bail you out. This way, I got to have you.”
That might as well be Shakespearian poetry coming from Drex Caine.
He kisses me again, and I smile, making it harder for him to keep kissing me.
“I think I promised to kiss every inch of you,” he murmurs against my lips. “How about we skip to that part?”
He runs his finger up from my hip, over my stomach, between my breasts, and then toys with my neck. His lips move down, and he follows the path of his finger in reverse, starting with my neck, and working his way down to my right hip, flicking his tongue, kissing a path, and nibbling lightly.
“I like that idea,” I moan—yes, it’s spoken through a moan. My body seems to be so attuned to him that it becomes pliant in his hands under the simplest of touches.
He reverently kisses his way back up, dragging his lips across my flesh in slow, unhurried motions. It almost feels wrong to enjoy something so much from someone I should fear.
But there’s not a trace of rational thinking when it comes to him. It’s freeing and seductive in its own right.
His lips trail over one nipple before his tongue flicks across the pebbled surface, stealing all my thoughts. He abandons it before I’m even truly teased and moves to the other one, showing it more attention when he sucks it into his mouth.
I shiver against him, and a growl emanates from his chest in response. When my hands go to his hair, his motions get a little rougher, losing the sweetness he had seconds ago.
And I love it.
He bites down just hard enough, sending a shot of painful pleasure that I can feel all the way down to my toes. When I whimper, he returns to the other side, showing it the same rough affection.
I’m in sensation overload by the time he starts moving back down my body. Just the heat of his breath licking across my skin is enough to have me aching, needing him closer.
He spreads my thighs wider before propping my legs over his shoulders, and I barely manage to lift my head enough to watch. It’s so damn erotic to see him catch my eyes before his lips fasten around my clit, sucking hard while flicking his tongue across it at the same time.
He doesn’t tease; he goes for the kill. I try to move, squirming reflexively, but he pins me down with very little effort, keeping my hips from moving.
Whimpers, cries, moans… all of it combines, creating unintelligible sounds that flow from my mouth in an endless stream. It only fuels him, and he aggressively devours me, owning me like only he can.