Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I’m back to pissed. Damn spitfire could hurt herself. One wrong move, and the damn thing could topple over, taking her down with it. Not to mention the damn show she’s giving every old man in the area. My eyes move from hers, casing the place to see who all is watching. I find not one but two older gentlemen breaking their neck to get a view of someone who isn’t theirs. Hell, they’re old enough to be her damn grandfather. Shit, I’m eighteen years older than her, know better than to go after her. Too bad I’m old enough to know better but still too fucking young to care. I’m about to honk my horn to get the two others’ eyes off her, but just as I lift my hand, Josie takes the moment to hop out of the damn trash can, ass and tits jostling as she does. My mouth waters at the sight, ready to see the full fucking package, gripping it in my hands, watching her while she’s completely bare as I fuck my cock into her body.
“Goddamn.” I take my hat off my head and rake my fingers through my hair, waiting for Josie’s next move. Glad as fuck when she walks her fine ass back inside her house. No more giving a show to others who aren’t me, and you can bet your ass I’ll be marking my damn territory in the basest way possible as soon as she’s in my bed. It’s that final thought that has me putting my truck in gear to drive home. It seems I’ve got one more thing to do before I can start working on a piece of furniture, and that’s fisting my cock, hopefully for the last damn time.
11
JOSIE
That same feeling of someone watching me hit again, literally the entire time from the moment I stepped out of the front door to when I was having a fit fighting with the bin for recyclables. It wasn’t until I rounded the house and clocked the neighbors across the street, beer in their hand, sitting in front of their garage in lawn chairs. I waved, and they gave me a man nod, unbothered to use their hand or voice a greeting. They’re older in age, skin leathered from the sun on one, hair showing more gray than the once dark color. The other is the complete opposite, with fair skin, snowy white hair with a big trucker hat on top of his head. I will say the flannels and jeans made me do a double-take, pegging them as the two grumpy men in my new town. Exactly like the movie my grandma used to watch when she needed a laugh. I didn’t receive any kind of reply, so I went on my merry way. Finally not feeling like I was losing my mind was nice, too. It wasn’t until I was inside where I’m standing now, the front door firmly closed, that those damn heebie-jeebies finally went away. I look around my house, pissed that I didn’t make much headway. The kitchen being done would have been nice; instead, I’m going to have to dip into my never-touch savings to get the ball rolling on kitchen cabinets and counters. Yay freaking me.
I grab my phone off the kitchen counter. The peninsula luckily is still in one piece. The same can’t be said for me. My energy is slowly dwindling, and I’ve still got a few things left to do before I can even think about taking a steaming hot shower before I enjoy a hot cup of that sleepy tea Mom loaded me up on. Tonight, nothing better wake me up. I unlock my phone, facial recognition doing the most, and after a few swipes of my thumb, I’m hovering over the contact my dad sent, Blue Valley Contractors. A very original name, much like the whole town. Everything has Blue Valley in front of it—the grocery store, gas station, pharmacy. I guess if it works, why change it up? With a pit in the bottom of my stomach, I hit the call button and bring the phone to my ear, half hoping to get voice mail, counting the rings in my head, one, two, three, four. The fifth ring is right there, giving me the out I need when my hopes and dreams are shattered. No longer is there a ringing in my ear; instead, it’s a deep voice with a tinge of irritation. “Blue Valley Contractors, what can I do for you?” Wow, a bundle of joy this guy is going to be to work with. How is it possible he’s the one who comes highly recommended? I wonder.
“Hi, my name is Josie. I’m hoping to schedule an estimate for my kitchen.” There, I did it. So used to working online and not having to pick up the phone and actually call someone has made me even more of a recluse. Seriously, I was hoping I could have emailed or texted the person on the other end of the line, but since I don’t have a business card, only a name and number, I knew calling was my only choice.