Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Chapter Five
Hudson
The only thing I don’t like about this moment is that I don’t have her under my own roof.
“What’s that place?” she asks, pointing out the window of the guest wing kitchen while I straighten up the pizza boxes and wipe down the counter.
“Oh, that’s an old guesthouse. Or, more like quarters for house staff. This house was built in stages, starting in the early 1900’s, then added on, updated, and so on. That was built when the first part of the main house was built. No one lives there now.”
I want to tell her I used to live there. When Jackson first hired me, I had a felony record, no money, no friends that were good for anything but another slippery slope back to Hudson Correctional. Except Wilson, but he had Kensie and I didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on him.
It would be better to have Fay in my house, our house, wandering around under my roof with all the same wonder in her eyes I see right now. That would be the only way to improve on this moment. The fire damage is repaired, and the place is almost back to livable, but I’m not putting her anywhere that isn’t perfect like her.
I know she thinks this place is mine. I haven’t told her that directly, but right now with the sight of her and the way she danced on my toes like my perfect little girl, all that seems like distant details.
The way she enjoyed the pizza, too. God, it was a sight to behold. I love every inch and intend to taste them all.
“It looks sort of like it’s out of a fairy tale. All stone and ivy. Can we go see it?”
“Of course, baby.”
I need to make her mine. Right fucking now. I’ll be planted inside of her, and she’ll never be rid of me.
I may not be the billionaire that owns this house, but my life is on point. I can take care of her forever and give her everything her little heart desires. I’ll be the man she wants and needs, but first I need to claim what I already know is mine.
I sent a courier back to the club as well, to retrieve her stuff. I talked to Wilson last night to make sure he got whatever belonged to her and secured it. It was sad as fuck when the driver dropped off her belongings.
She had a tattered Minecraft backpack stuffed with two changes of clothes, toothbrush and toothpaste, and some other toiletries, along with a couple tattered squishy sort of stuffed black dogs.
Why is she carrying her stuff like that? Like she’s going to stay at a hotel for the night? The whole abandoned house and the depressing contents of her backpack tell me a story I need to put a happy ending on.
There was also a prepaid cell that was out of minutes, and her wallet with seven dollars and fourteen cents, and a library card. It all made me angry, and my drive to keep her and take care of her expanded inside of me exponentially.
What’s a soft, sweet beauty like her doing out in the world alone?
I shake my head. I’ll find out, but I know this, she will never be alone again. I don’t think I’ll ever let her out of my sight, to be honest. I feel my heart already ripping apart at the very thought of her going back out in the world without me.
I didn’t let on, and find it concerning and confusing that she hasn’t asked about her things, but again, these are all details. My cock and my need to make her mine convince me we can deal with the details later.
With her wrapped in a thick, faux fur blanket, I crouch down when we get to the back door leading to the path toward the little guesthouse.
“What?” She squishes up her nose, looking down at me.
“Hop on. You don’t have any shoes. I’m not going to let you walk on the cold, wet ground in bare feet.”
The joy drains from her face as she tucks in her lower lip. “It’s okay, I’ll walk, it’s not like it’s snowing.”
She forces a smile onto those pink lips I’ve barely been able to stop kissing since last night, but I snap my fingers and jerk my thumb toward my back.
“Climb on, or I’m going to tear up that ass in a way you won’t like.”
She hesitates. “I’m not really a little girl. I mean, you obviously know that. It was Chubby Chasers night—”
I stand bolt upright in a flash, spin her around and flip up the tail of my dress shirt she’s wearing, tug down the light blue pair of boxers she picked out from the pack I had in my room, and deliver three fast, hard swats to her gloriously jiggling bottom.