Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
13
Ed
I hear the front door open and close, and call out from my study.
“Kimber? Sweetheart, is that you?”
After all, she wasn’t here when I got home this evening, which is strange because usually, the pretty girl has dinner on the table as soon as I walk through the door. But I came home to an empty house. Surprised, I texted and called Kimber, but there was no reply. Never one to stress, I heated up a microwave dinner and am eating it in front of the computer now.
“Kimber?” I call again. “I’m in the study, hon.”
She appears, and immediately, I can sense that something’s wrong. Maybe it’s the slightly mussed quality of her hair, or maybe it’s her eyes, which are red-rimmed like she’s been crying.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
Kimber’s narrow jaw tightens, but she smiles and nods.
“Yeah,” she says in a too-bright voice. “It was a beautiful day today, wasn’t it? How was work?”
I narrow my eyes because I can feel that something’s wrong even if she doesn’t want to talk about it. But never a man to push, I merely come around the desk and take her in my arms before resting my chin on her brown curls.
“Work was fine. Nothing to report really. Those dudes at Cholera want even more money, unfortunately.”
Kimber shoots me a watery smile.
“The company’s called Cholera? What kind of name is that?”
I chuckle, smoothing my hands up and down her narrow back.
“I know, right? Why would you name your company after a fucking disease? But they’re in the biosciences field, so I guess it makes sense. Sort of. The name will stick in your brain, that’s for sure.”
Kimber chuckles too, although her voice is a bit hoarse.
“I definitely won’t forget it. If I ever start a company, I’ll name it OCD or COPD. That sounds catchy right?”
I laugh, glad that she’s got her sense of humor still. But then, when I’m reaching down to squeeze Kimber’s bottom, I realize that something’s different. The sweet girl isn’t wearing any panties, and I shoot her a look.
“No thong, honey? Really? It’d be one thing if you were waiting for me at home without panties on, but you were just out in public. What’s going on?”
Kimber shakes her head, her eyes darkening.
“It’s nothing, Ed,” she says. “Trust me, nothing’s going on.”
I squint at her.
“No, I don’t buy that, sweetheart. Something’s up. I can tell you’ve been crying and that you’re upset. Plus, you usually have dinner ready for me when I get back. Where were you? Tell me, honey. It can’t be that bad.”
The curvy girl looks at me with wild brown eyes, her bottom lip trembling. Then, the waterworks start.
“Ed,” she cries out in an anguished voice. “It’s worse than you think! My stepdad … well, Steve has been masturbating with my panties, and forced me to give him the pair I was wearing so that he could add it to his collection. He smelled them even when I was right there! In the kitchen! How fucked up is that? Oh my god, oh my god.”
I stare at her, shocked, but then my hackles rise.
“Tell me everything, Kimber,” I grind out. “Don’t leave anything out.”
Then the whole sordid story comes pouring out. How she had no idea that Ed was such a pervert until she caught him masturbating with her panties. Even worse, her stepfather’s not even trying to hide his perverted ways now, and Kimber was literally forced to hand her panties over to Steve a mere twenty minutes ago.
“What the fuck?” I ask in a dazed voice. Then stronger, “Fuck that!”
I dash from the house, banging the door behind me. Kimber’s screaming, but I don’t want her to follow me because I’m on my way to commit homicide … and she doesn’t need to witness it.
14
Ed
Unfortunately, Kimber keeps her wits about her, and hops into her own car right after I get into mine. We tear through traffic like two insane madmen, weaving between other vehicles, and I literally see other drivers dialing 9-1-1 on their phones when they spot us careening down the street like crazed maniacs. I don’t blame them because I would do the same.
Finally, I screech to a halt in front of Steve Forster’s home. Everyone knows everyone else in Hooper, and I know where Kimber’s parents live.
“Where is that fucker?” I shout, jumping out of my car.
“Ed, stop!” Kimber screams, leaping out of her car too. “You don’t need to do this!”
But at that moment, the door opens and who stands there but Steve Forster himself. His paunch seems especially big today as it strains against his button-down, and his light brown hair shows bits of shiny scalp through the strands. Even worse, he has the temerity to smirk.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Then, to my horror, he lifts a frilly scrap of lace to his nose and inhales deeply, his lashes fluttering like he’s getting high. I can tell even from this distance that it must be Kimber’s panties in his hand. In fact, I recognize that particular pair because it’s got a special loop in the back where you can attach a mobile dildo if you want to tease your girl extra that day. Yeah, that’s how Kimber and I roll.