Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“I’m a driver.” Beau operates an imaginary steering wheel. “See? Vroom. Vroom.”
“Why don’t you park the car since we’re having breakfast, Beau. Porsche drivers do not eat and drive,” I caution.
Beau considers this piece of information and then nods his acceptance. Lila sends me a grateful smile and tucks into her pancakes. The effects of last night’s drugging are still weighing on her.
After a few moments of silence, Beau pipes up. “Are you two getting married?”
Lila chokes on her pancake. I slap her back until her coughing fit subsides. “Why do you ask?”
He doesn’t sound against it.
“Because you carried Lila to your bedroom last night.”
“You should have been sleeping,” I say mildly, handing Lila a glass of milk to clear her throat.
“I was, but then I woke up because I had to piss.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.
Lila bursts out laughing. “He looks just like you. You make that exact expression.”
Beau beams smugly. I stroke the back of his head and think about how I thought I was content before these two appeared in my basement boiler room. I liked my solitude. I did not imagine a future with an adopted son and a wife. “Beau, I think it’s time I adopted you,” I say. “I’ve been your legal guardian for two years, but it’s time you have my last name.”
“‘Kay, but what about Lila? You adopting her too?”
“No.” I give my girl a warm smile. “Like you said, I’m marrying her.”
Lila drops her fork. It strikes the edge of the plate and then tumbles to the floor. I bend down and pick it up, wiping the tines clean and setting it aside. When I rise to get her a new fork, she grabs my wrist. “Don’t.” Her eyes, full of questions, search mine.
I turn to Beau, who has fully destroyed his stack of pancakes. “Beau, you ready for camp?”
He jumps up. “Yup.”
“Then go wash up. I’m going to talk to Lila, and then we’ll go.”
Beau dashes off, his small feet making more noise than they should. When the footsteps fade, I take Lila’s hand in mine and press her cold fingers to my mouth.
“You’re going to have to marry me. I promised Beau.”
Her face looks stricken. “But you don’t love me. You think I’m too young, too…I don’t know.”
“You are too much for me. Too young. Too beautiful. Too smart. But I have to have you. When I found you in the basement of my office building, I knew you would belong to me in some way, but I didn’t know what that really meant. I just knew you were going to be someone very important to me.”
“I’m only twelve years younger. It’s not like you’re some old man with one step in the nursing home.”
My dick pulses in excited agreement. I definitely don’t feel old. I gave you an opportunity to go off to college, but now that I’ve had you, I can’t allow you to leave. To find someone else.” Her fingers have grown warm. I kiss them again before dragging her whole body onto my lap. “My love for you might be wrong, but I won’t give you up. Last night, in your delirium, you said I shouldn’t hurt you anymore, but the only way that will happen is if we marry and I can plunder your soft depths every night. I’m sorry, Lila, but your time is up. You belong to me now.”
She licks her lips and then leans close, planting the softest kiss on my mouth. “I don’t want to go anywhere or find someone else so long as I can have you.”
“You own me, body and soul. I want to hold you every day and every night. You won’t ever go without so long as you are with me, Lila.” I thrust my fingers into her hair and tip her head back so that I can plunge my tongue into the deep recesses of her mouth. When we surface for air, she grips me by the cheeks.
“Say it, Drix.”
My mouth curves up at the corners. “Say what? That you’re beautiful? That when I look at you, I get hard? That the thought of you interrupts my business day and has caused countless sleepless nights?”
“No. I mean, yes, all of those, but say the other thing,” she demands.
“That I love you?”
She melts. “Yes.”
“I do. I have. I was probably born loving you, and it took me twenty-eight years to find you. That’s why I can’t wait any longer, even though you’re so yo—"
She slaps a finger over my mouth. “Every time you say that, you have to put a quarter in the swear jar.”
“We don’t have a swear jar,” I say against her fingers.
“We will.” She hops off my lap and goes to the cupboards, where she finds a large beer mug. “This will do for now.” She wriggles her fingers. “Give me.”