Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Her jaw works. She glares at me and throws back the whiskey and coughs once it’s down. I try not to laugh, but fuck, it’s adorable. She’s so fucking cute, so fucking sexy, and I’m making a mistake. Thinking with my dick and my gut instead of my head, but I want this.
For a first time in a long time, I want something.
“One night,” she says, holding up a single finger. “I’ll give it one night. If I change my mind in the morning, I’m out of here.”
“Works for me.”
“You sleep on the couch.”
I laugh and shake my head. “You sleep in the guest room. I sleep in my bed. Where do you think you are?”
She blushes again. “Okay, fine, that works.”
I hold out a hand, gesturing for her to follow. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Chapter 9
Jeanie
I spend a restless night in Gavino’s guest room and find him brewing coffee in the morning. He nods toward a stack of folded clothes on the kitchen counter. “Olivia brought that stuff over if you want to change into something clean. Feel free to shower. I’ll take you up to the big house in a few minutes.” He pours himself a mug and eyes me. “I need to work up to it first.”
I gather the clothes and tuck them under my arm. I touch my cheek where the bandage feels raw against my skin and look down at the floor. I want to say something, maybe to thank him for leaving me alone the night before, for showing me some small bit of kindness, but I can’t manage to say it. I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion pumping through me or the pain in my chest and back, but I suddenly feel like I’m being ground down and crushed to powder by the weight of this man and I don’t know how to get out from under his control.
“Why are you doing this for me?” I ask quietly instead, not meeting his gaze. I’m raw and vulnerable and I hate myself for it. I’ve worked for a long time to wrap myself in layers of protection, but now they’ve all been stripped away.
“Because I don’t like Malcolm. And I find you… interesting.”
My eyebrows raise and I glance up. He’s staring at me with this smoldering expression like it hurts him to look at me for too long, but he won’t let himself turn away.
“Interesting?”
“Don’t push me right now.”
“I’m just wondering what you mean by interesting. Like I’m a good movie or something? Like I’m a nice entertainment or whatever?”
“I mean—” He steps toward me, around the counter, and I stagger a step back. “I want to strip off your clothes and fuck you until you scream after feeling that tight wet cunt of yours the other day. I mean I haven’t gotten your lips from my fucking head and now all I can do is picture my tongue in your mouth, my cock between your legs, and your screams of pleasure in my ears. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
My mouth drops open as my heart races wildly and his lips curl into a smirk. My cheeks turn bright red and I turn my back on him, fuming, annoyed I’m letting him get a rise out of me so easily. “You’re messing with me.”
“Yes and no. I am messing with you, but I’m not lying.”
“God, you’re such an asshole. Why the hell did I agree to this?”
“Because it’s either you work for me or you run away. You made the right decision.”
As I head into the shower, I’m not so sure he’s right. But getting clean makes me feel better, and the loose sweats plus worn-out t-shirt fit well enough. By the time I’m following him up to the main house with a mug of coffee in my hand, I’m starting to feel a little bit more human.
Although every step hurts right now and my ribs ache like someone spent all night kicking me in the chest.
Gavino pushes in through the back door. I follow him into a large living room with couches on the right and a bar along the length of the far wall. He turns toward a hallway on our left, but a voice rings out, catching him before he can slip away. “Uncle Gavino!”
A little girl runs over, appearing from a hallway across the expansive space. She’s no more than twelve years old with the tan skin of a kid that spends all her time outdoors, dark eyes, and unruly dark hair. She throws herself at Gavino and hugs him, gripping him tightly, and Gavino grimaces as if he’s being squeezed to death. “Easy, Penny,” he says, peeling her back. “Where are your cousins?”
“They’re right—” She looks over her shoulder as a young boy comes into the room, around Penny’s age, followed by another boy that must be his older brother, and a girl that’s probably Penny’s older sister. The little pod of kids comes hurrying over, all of them dressed in swimsuits with flip-flops and phones in their hands, and they all chatter at Gavino at once like they haven’t seen him in ages.