Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Jenny slides across the backseat. I shut the door behind me and Preach climbs in the passenger seat.
Bill looks back. “Where to, Mr. Davenport?”
“Hotel.”
I feel Jenny looking at me when she senses my clipped tone, but I can’t look her in the eye. We can’t discuss this here—not that I don’t trust the men that work for me. This is just different. It takes the word personal to an entirely different level.
When we reach the hotel, I help Jenny out in her drunken stupor and hurry through the crowd. I reach the elevator and walk in, my arm wrapped around her. Preach stands in front of me, watching the numbers go up.
We reach my floor and as soon as I’m in the room, I sit Jenny down on the bed. Walking to the bathroom, I shut the door behind me and glare into the mirror. I pace quickly, thinking of how to fucking start the conversation—what to fucking say.
I don’t even know if it’s true, but deep down in my gut something tells me it is and I won’t be able to deal with her confession once it’s up in the air.
“Drake?” Jenny calls. Her voice is light and distant. I swing the door open and walk out, ready to unleash my questions, but then I stop.
And I can’t help but stare at her.
She’s taken her shirt and bra off and all I see are those perky, pink nipples. I stop walking, swallowing hard.
“Jenny. What the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing.” She runs a finger over the comforter, smirking, flirting. “I just need some company.”
“And attention,” I mutter.
She laughs. “I do not need attention.” She looks behind me. “Do you think you can turn the lights off?”
“No,” I grumble, walking ahead. I meet up to her, grabbing her hips and bringing her body between my legs. Her tits bounce when she moves. “If this happens, I need to see you. All of you.”
She blinks rapidly, eyes filled with shame now. I don’t know what there is to be ashamed of, though. She has a great body. She always has. This proves that she’s hiding something.
“I like it better with the lights off,” she whispers as our lips inch closer. I look down at her pouty mouth, knowing I need another quick taste.
I plant my hands on the bed and take it. I lean her back and she moans as she allows me to take full control. At first, my hand is cupping her face, kissing deeply, passionately. Her groin rocks against mine, and I feel my cock throbbing in my jeans.
I groan, becoming greedy and forgetting all about the problems at hand for a second. My hands travel down her waist and back up to cup her tits. I sink down, shoving her skirt up and then sliding between her legs, getting as close as possible.
I need to feel her—all of her if I want to stop thinking about what may have harmed her.
With her, I can’t control myself. My fingers comb through her silky brown hair, gradually moving down to her smooth thighs.
Her skin is so soft, the delicate curves and hills of her body to fucking die for. I’m hard as fuck now, wanting so badly to sink into her sweet pussy.
“Shit, Jenny,” I breathe. Fuck. She just doesn’t know what she does to me.
I could take her. Right here, right now, and I know she’d let me…
Or would she?
I realize her body has somewhat frozen. Unlike the kiss we shared earlier at the reef, she’s not all in. I pull my mouth away from hers, searching her face for answers.
“What’s the matter?” I whisper. “Am I hurting you?”
“No,” she squeaks.
“So what is it?”
She shakes her head and sits up. I climb off of her quickly and stand, but as she tugs her skirt down with haste, that’s when I catch it.
“Hold on… what the fuck is that?” My forehead creases, brows stitching together as I reach for the skirt.
She stops me from pulling it up, but I know my eyes aren’t deceiving me. I know one when I see one.
“Drake, just stop.” Her voice is shaky and weak.
“Jenny, move your hands. Right now.” I look her hard in the eyes. She stares back at me, shaking her head.
“No… I can’t.” Her eyes well up, her face going blank. “I can’t, Drake. I won’t.”
“Why the hell not?” I tug on the skirt, but she has a strong grip. I could rip her hands off, but I won’t. I can’t. That’s not me. If I do, I could end up hurting her.
“It’s nothing,” she says, focusing on her lap.
Her fingers are still wrapped tight around the edge of her skirt.
My jaw pulses. I can’t ignore what I saw. I refuse. I try moving her hands away one more time.
Her head is shaking swiftly, her eyes shut, tears streaming down her cheeks now. Her pain is clear, and it breaks my heart to see her like this. I feel an indescribable ache in my chest as I watch her face while slowly removing her hands.