Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Her face is serious, and she nibbles on her bottom lip.
My jaw feels tight.
Is she happy or sad about the news? Her reaction seems odd.
Not my problem. I grab the now filled glass and lift it. It’s exactly what I need, like a refreshing pool on a hot day.
“Dane,” Coach’s voice rings through the dining room, and I turn my head back toward his direction. “Do you have anything to add?”
No.
What can I possibly say? Thanks for helping out. I almost threw you down on the floor three times a day to eat your perfect pussy, but I figured your dad would kill me if I did that, so I decided not to.
“It was great having you step in for Molly. You were very helpful, and I really appreciate it,” I grit out.
Coach smiles, and I know he bought it. I glance at Josephine, and the little hellfire is having none of it. She’s currently trying to stop herself from rolling her eyes.
“You sure?” she says, shocking the shit out of me.
“Of course,” I answer.
“Well, it’s not like you ever smile, so how would I know?” She lifts a mocking brow.
“I'm not that bad. I smile.”
She shakes her head. “Lies. And we both know it.”
“Josie,” her dad reprimands her, and she shrugs.
“What? It’s true. The man never smiles. Hell, I’d never smile either if I had to work with him all day.” She inclines her chin toward her dad.
There’s an awkward silence before Coach’s chair scrapes against the floor. He stands up and leaves the room. Sherry gets up too, following on his heels.
“Ugh,” Josephine groans, eyes closing in frustration. Or maybe something else?
“What was that about?” I snap, not understanding why she would insult him at his own table. “He’s a good man,” I tell her.
“I wouldn't know.” There’s sadness in those words, and now I really have questions.
I might’ve said it was none of my business, but now that I’ve witnessed this, I change my mind.
I’m about to ask her to clarify, but then Sherry strides back into the room. This time, holding plates. She doesn’t look at either of us.
“Time for dinner.” She places the two dishes in front of Josephine and myself before leaving, most likely to get her and Robert’s dinner.
“While this looks delicious, it’s not really what I’m in the mood for.”
I don't respond. Nothing good will come from talking to her. Not when she most likely is going to say something to drive me crazy.
“Don’t you want to know what I want?” she asks.
I continue to pretend she’s not speaking.
“Oh, so you’re ignoring me? That’s not very nice, Mr. Grumpy. Don’t you want to know what your little hellfire has to say?” Her voice drips with innuendo, and I’m hyperaware that I shouldn’t engage.
What is she doing?
I shouldn’t look at her or speak to her, but like a moth to a flame, I can’t help it.
I pivot in my seat and meet her stare.
Her mouth opens, and her tongue slowly peeks out from behind her red lips before she runs it seductively over her plump skin.
Something is really off here. I know we have chemistry, and I have no doubt she does want another round, but the way she’s acting right now . . . there’s more to it.
“I want you.”
Fuck.
My dick hardens in my pants, and I grit my teeth. Not the time. Not the fucking time.
“That won’t happen, Hellfire. And if I were you, I’d keep your voice down.”
“But wouldn’t it be fun if it did?”
God would it ever.
What I would do for just one more taste. Why are the forbidden ones that much sweeter?
After the longest dinner of my life, it’s finally over. I managed to keep my eyes off Josephine throughout the rest of the meal by some miracle.
“Come on, Dane, let’s go outside by the pool and have a glass of whiskey,” Coach says, entering the room now that Josephine is nowhere to be seen.
“I should probably be going home,” I say, glancing down at my phone.
“Don’t be ridiculous. One drink. We need to talk shop.”
We have more to talk about than shop, but I’m not about to say that out loud.
“Lead the way,” I say.
He turns back around. “Meet me by the pool. I’ll grab fresh glasses.”
Since I’ve been here more times than I can count, I head toward the glass doors leading to the patio.
When I step outside, I see I’m not alone. A few steps ahead of me, Josephine is walking toward the guesthouse.
So that’s where she’s staying.
I assumed she was staying in the main house, but I guess, given her age and relationship with her dad, this makes more sense.
She keeps walking, and I take a seat at the table.
If she noticed me trailing her, she didn’t acknowledge it.
The cool night air feels good right now. I inhale deeply, allowing my shoulders to uncoil. It’s not that I’m always uptight, but it’s hard to let my guard down.