Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
But there was no time.
Someone would realize we were missing if we were gone too long.
She lowered my zipper and reached inside my jeans to pull my erection free. I flinched and growled, hooking her leg up and pushing her damp panties to the side. She gasped when I entered her, her wet pussy surrounding me so tightly I was momentarily blinded by the pleasure. I pressed my forehead to hers as I started to rock into her. I wanted to savor it, but there was little time.
I was just about to come when the back door of the clubhouse swung open with a bang.
“Chance!” It was my father. “Chance where the fuck are you?”
He couldn’t see us because we were hidden by the dumpster, but he knew we were out here.
Fuck.
I was about to come and my cock was begging me to keep going.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I pulled out of her and quickly shoved my erection back into my jeans. The best thing we could do was act as if there was nothing going on.
“I’m here,” I said, stepping out from the cover of the dumpster.
My father’s eyes gleamed like dark stones under the fluorescent light above him. “What are you doing out here?”
Before I could reply, the girl I was about to come inside of stepped out of the shadows and began walking toward him.
“He’s helping me look for my retainer,” she said nervously. “I left it in the bathroom and thought it might’ve been taken out with the trash.”
She glanced at me and then looked back at my father.
“Did you find it?” he asked.
She shook her head as she made her way up the steps to where he was standing, her sweet ass swinging seductively in her tight dress. “No, but Chance was kind enough to help me look for it.”
Whether my father believed her story or not wasn’t clear. He waited for her to disappear inside, copping an eyeful of her sweet ass as she walked past him, before turning back to me.
“Come on. Come have a drink with your old man,” he said to me before taking another look at her butt as she disappeared inside the clubhouse.
Resisting the need to adjust the front of my jeans, I met him at the steps and followed him inside.
He got me hammered on shots of Patron.
One after the other.
Down the throat.
Years later, when the scenario replayed in my head and I saw it with the perspective of an adult, I realized he had been a man with an ulterior motive. Shoving drinks my way. Getting me so drunk I could barely move while I sat slumped on an old couch. I was the perfect audience. Unable to move.
My father disappeared but then reappeared with the girl in tow. I watched as he led her across the room by the hand, a smug smile on his face, his eyes meeting mine before they disappeared into the kitchen.
In that moment I knew he knew about us sneaking around. He knew I had feelings for her. Of course he did. The great Garrett Calley missed nothing!
But I had broken club code. I had touched what wasn’t mine to touch.
And now he was about to make his point.
I went to say something, but my lips couldn’t form the words and my tongue was as useless as a dead slug in my mouth. It took all my focus to rise to my feet because I was so damn drunk. I stumbled across the room, pausing against the wall for a moment as my head swirled and my stomach churned with too much liquor. I belched and struggled to catch my breath before staggering through the bar to the kitchen.
It took a moment for my vision to focus.
To understand what I was seeing.
Then pain slammed into me with so much force I fell against the doorway.
The girl my teenage heart was in love with was lying across the countertop, her legs wide open and her back arched in ecstasy as my father fucked her.
My heart shattered.
I watched, rooted to the ground, unable to look away.
My father was fucking her.
And she was fucking enjoying it.
Knowing I was there, my father turned his head and locked eyes with me, and an evil smirk slowly spread across his lips.
For my benefit, he rammed harder into her.
“Oh yes, fuck me harder, Prez,” she cried out, throwing her head back.
“You like that, baby? You like it when a real man fucks you?”
She moaned, biting down on her lip. “I love it when you fuck me, Prez.”
“Your pussy is so sweet. Tell me whose cock you like. Tell me whose cock gives you more pleasure than any other cock.”
She gasped. “Yours. I love your cock, Prez. I love it when you fuck me.” She gripped the sides of the countertop. “I’m coming, oh God, I’m coming!”