Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
A mother who wasn’t here tonight to celebrate Raven’s birthday because Raven had cut Cassandra out of her life when she’d chosen her psychotic son—my fucking twin brother—over her adopted daughter. It was difficult for me to even maintain a civil relationship with my mother, but I did it for Owen, because he deserved to have both sets of grandparents in his life.
Sitting by one of the firepits by myself and sipping my last bourbon of the night, I considered the woman who consumed too much of my thoughts. Maybe if so much of my life wasn’t in upheaval, I would have asked Stevie out on a date. But I had an ex-wife just waiting for the chance to skew anything to her advantage during our ongoing custody battle for Owen. And then there was my mother, who commiserated and sided with Alyssa and tried to make me feel guilty for divorcing her. But I had zero regrets about ending our marriage, and no matter how much Alyssa wanted a reconciliation—and was using custody of Owen to persuade me to give her another chance—it wasn’t going to happen.
On top of all that emotional turmoil, I was still dealing with the fact that Lance, my shitty deranged twin, was serving a very long sentence in prison for his assault on Raven, violating parole, and racking up federal charges for calling in a bomb threat. Some days it felt like I was just trying to pick up the pieces of my life and keep them glued together.
My sole focus right now was Owen and keeping Alyssa from finding a way to gain full custody. That in itself was a challenge, considering I knew she’d grasp any opportunity to make that happen, just to spite me for divorcing her, even if my reasons for doing so had been legitimate. Dealing with her was exhausting, but all I cared about was making sure my son had some kind of stability in his life and didn’t feel torn between two parents, even if Alyssa didn’t give a damn about any of that.
Stevie’s unfettered laughter drew my attention back to her, the sound calming and distracting me, in a good way. I shoved all those troubling personal thoughts to the back of my mind and watched as she danced with friends and had a good time. Sitting off on my own, I allowed myself to appreciate the bounce of her breasts as she shimmied her shoulders and the provocative way she shook her ass to the beat of the music. Every once in a while she glanced my way and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was deliberately teasing and tempting me.
I was most definitely tempted, because those initial thoughts drifted to much dirtier territory as I imagined Stevie completely naked, straddling my hips as we fucked, those full, firm tits jiggling as she bounced enthusiastically on my cock.
It wasn’t the first time she’d starred in my illicit fantasies, and my neglected dick was completely on board with the idea, thickening in my slacks as another forbidden vision played through my mind, of pounding into her from behind, her silky hair wrapped tight around my fist. My fingers twitched as I envisioned pulling her head back and holding her in place as I drove deep into her pussy, her soft ass cushioning my driving thrusts as she moaned my name…
“Tell me you’re having a good time.”
The sound of Raven’s voice over the music jolted me out of my depraved thoughts like a scratch on a vinyl record. My heart slammed hard in my chest. Jesus Christ. I hadn’t even seen her approach or leave the dance floor, but then again, my gaze, my entire attention, had been riveted on Stevie, and my brain had been in the fucking gutter.
I cleared my throat as Raven plopped down onto the chair next to where I was sitting, the skirt of her champagne-colored dress settling over her legs. I tried to put the pieces of what she’d just said to me together, and failed. I didn’t have a fucking clue what she’d asked me.
“What was that?” I asked in a casual tone. “I was distracted and didn’t hear you.”
“Clearly,” she said with a little smirk on her lips, which made me wonder if she’d seen me ogling Stevie. “I said, tell me you’re having a good time at my party.”
“I’m having a good time at your party,” I parroted.
She rolled her eyes, not amused. “And mean it.
“I do mean it,” I said more genuinely, and finished off the bourbon in my glass.
Skepticism etched her pretty features and flickered in her green eyes. “You’d have a better time if you did something enjoyable for yourself for a change.”
I arched a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, even though I had a fair idea of where this conversation was heading.