Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
For a moment, the man who was once a little boy who idolized his dad is crushed he would say something so cruel. Then I’m infuriated because I gave him an opening to strike deeply at me. I let the bastard exploit my weakness, and he’s right… I had so much rage and guilt over Michelle’s death, and I still struggle with it today.
But it’s something I hold privately, and I’m not about to let him know he’s struck a nerve.
“Always a pleasure seeing you, Dad,” I murmur, with enough sarcastic bite to the word “dad” that he understands my respect of him ends where his parenting abilities start.
When I push up from the table, my father doesn’t say a word. Saying nothing else, I give him my back, winding my way through the maze of tables to the exit.
Once outside, I inhale deeply of the dry desert air, letting my lungs expand to capacity before releasing it. Deep breathing has become therapeutic to me over the last few years. After I found Michelle’s lifeless body on our bed with an empty pill bottle clutched in her hand and an empty liquor bottle on the floor, I went through a period where I started having anxiety attacks. My gut instinct was to self-medicate with bourbon, but Christina—who was the only person I ever confided to about what was happening to me—suggested I see a doctor. I was given the choice of medication versus meditative and breathing techniques. I chose the latter, and it ultimately worked for me.
I don’t get anxiety attacks anymore but when I get pissed, I find the same tricks seem to work.
Taking in another breath, I think of Hannah. I imagine her locked in the stocks, naked and totally under my control.
My breath stutters out, and I imagine Michelle, lying on the bed with open, vacant eyes. Her expression so blank I could not discern anything from it.
Like why she did it and how in the fuck had I not seen it coming?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I conjure forth the image of Hannah again, forcing myself to fall into my fantasy. I concentrate on the smooth lines of her body as she’s bent over, neck locked tight in the stocks. When I inhale, I don’t smell desert heat but the muskiness of her pussy. I imagine sinking into her from behind, and I fucking force Michelle into hiding.
When I feel like I’m in control once more and Michelle can’t taunt me any further tonight, I open my eyes and turn toward the valet stand to collect my car. Grounded again, I have a firm grip on the fact that my life has room in it for a few important things.
Knight Investment Groups—which I will continue to pour my energies in to make it more successful than anything my father could have imagined—my sister Christina—who has all that is left of my heart—and hardcore, dirty, impersonal fucking at the Wicked Horse.
♦
I’ve made myself stay away from Hannah all week, reasoning it would be better if I abstained. Like the sex would be better if I waited for it. Anticipated it a bit more.
I also wanted to set the tone with her, which is that she isn’t necessary to me.
Oddly, I haven’t been to the Wicked Horse since I was there with her last. That’s odd because I would normally avail myself of the club at least two or three times a week, but for some reason, I was content to just wait a bit for Hannah. I’m admittedly intrigued by her, and there’s no denying my body responds to her in a way it hasn’t to any other woman in a long, long time.
But now that I’m here with her, in the glassed room inside The Silo with the stocks just sitting there waiting to entrap her, I wonder why the fuck I wasn’t doing this with her every goddamn night. I must be insane or a glutton for punishment.
Hannah stares around with nervous eyes, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She’s wearing the red dress she wore the first night, and it’s an amazing color on her. I make a mental note to buy her more red lingerie.
We’re the only ones in this room, but I left the door unlocked in case someone wants to join us. It’s typical protocol in here, because most that use The Silo are into group sex. At the least, we’ll attract a crowd who will watch as we fuck. The thought of displaying Hannah for everyone to admire has my cock aching already. The Orgy Room that first night, and the Waterfall Room the second, were good introductions for her, as they were dark and more intimately lighted.
The Silo is bright, open, and without privacy walls. Everything is on display in here.