Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
It was one of their few and final conversations. He’d noticed Lauren was getting weaker, but he did like the older woman.
Willow didn’t know that when the news came to him of her final passing, he did shed a tear. Carson never cried. He hadn’t felt true emotion in a long time, not happiness, not sorrow, certainly not grief, but with Lauren, he felt it.
“I’m fine,” Willow said, lying.
He pulled her into his arms, cupping her cheek. She put her hands on his waist.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You need to relax, Willow. I’m not going to hurt you. I will never hurt you.” He brushed her lips with his. “I’ve got you, and the people outside aren’t going to hurt you either. I won’t let them.”
“How do you know you can stop them?” she asked.
“Because I know what I’m capable of, and you’re mine.” He sunk his fingers into her hair, pulled her close, and kissed her hard. She released a moan, and he just couldn’t get enough of this woman.
His cock was already hard as a rock. It would be so easy to take her to his desk, spread her legs, and fuck her there and then. But Willow’s first time would not be in his office. She was going to be as desperate and as needy as he was. Breaking the kiss, he forced himself to step away. His balls were fucking blue with how many times he’d been aroused with no follow through.
Last night had been his own special kind of torture. He never wore anything to bed as he preferred to be naked. Holding Willow, as she wore a flimsy nightshirt, feeling her ass nestled against his dick, finally having her in his arms, had been a dream as well as utter torture. It had been worth it, though. He had slept. With Willow in his arms and the scent of coconuts surrounding him, he’d slept peacefully. He’d waited for Willow to fall asleep before he’d found his own peace.
Pulling out a chair, he waited for her to sit, and as she did, he pushed the chair beneath the table.
“You have a dinner table in your office?” she asked.
“No, this was taken from downstairs.” He went to his desk and found the food waiting for him. Carrying it to the table, he put a plate of meatballs and pasta in front of her, and took a seat opposite.
“Did Grandma tell you this was my favorite?”
“Yes.”
Willow smiled. “I’m starting to think she had a little bit of a crush on you.”
“No, Lauren knew I was going to take care of you.”
“How did you and my grandparents meet?”
He noticed she didn’t like to linger after he made his claim or told her that she belonged to him. One day soon, he’d get her to react, but until then, he was happy for her to pretend it wasn’t happening.
“Awhile ago,” Carson said. “There were a string of burglaries in the area. I wasn’t happy, and I extended my security services to many people on the street, your grandparents included. I met Archie, and he told me he didn’t need to pay for no security.” Carson chuckled. “He had a baseball bat and a magazine. Told me he’d protect his woman’s shop.”
Willow gasped. “Oh, my, really?”
“Yep, and you know what, he wasn’t wrong. A couple of nights of him staying in the shop, he caught the burglar.” Lauren and Willow didn’t know that Archie had called Carson, not the police.
“I know how this shit works, son. I’m not a fool. He steals from you, I don’t call the cops. Now, I consider this dealt with, you and me, and you’re not going to give me no trouble.”
Carson had to wonder if that was how Lauren knew who he was and what he did. He never gave Archie any trouble, and whenever he heard of anything happening in the area, he always stopped by.
Archie’s death had been tragic. He’d been upset by Archie’s passing as well, but he had made sure to keep an eye on Lauren after that. When he met Willow, he’d known she was his, and since then, he had made it his mission to claim her.
Chapter Four
The nightclub was alive with activity.
Willow sat at the bar, sipping some fresh orange juice while she waited for Carson to be done. They had shared a meal and it was kind of nice to think of her grandfather and Carson sharing an interaction, even if it did seem kind of strange at the same time.
Peter, Carson’s driver, sat close to her.
“Have you worked for Carson long?” Willow asked.
“Many years now.”
He’d been told to sit with her, by Carson, and she felt a little guilty.
“If you want to go off and party, I don’t mind. There are a couple of women who would love to dance with you.”