Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I grab the iced coffee she offers and wince as my aching bottom meets the sofa.
The tyrant Jonathan spanked me over breakfast so hard, to the point where I’m sore. Well, more than sore. It really hurts, despite the lotion I applied before going out.
So much for spending our first night together.
I woke up with his cock nudging against my entrance from behind, then he fucked me raw until I screamed the whole room down.
When I asked him why he only fucks me from behind, he told me it’s none of my business. When I snapped, he spanked me until tears filled my eyes.
The brute. The arsehole.
Needless to say, I’ve been in a black mood ever since.
Not even Harris’s distasteful snobbishness first thing in the morning could snap me out of this state I’m in.
“What’s wrong?” Layla leans over, brow furrowing. She’s wearing an oversized long sleeve T-shirt that says, Black is a Philosophy.
“Nothing.” I take a slurp of the iced coffee, wishing I could somehow pour it on my arse instead.
“Yeah, right. You look like you witnessed the murder of puppies. Come on, spill. Is it because of Johnny’s brat son?”
“It’s because of the bastard himself.”
“What did he do now?” She sighs. “I really hoped not to have to use my karate skills too soon, considering the generous cheque he left for the charity, but I will if I have to.”
“Remember when you told me that when I threaten his control, he snaps?”
She nods.
“Well, he did. I challenged his need to stay in his emotional vault and he took it out on me.”
She jerks up, rolling up the sleeves of her T-shirt. “I’m going to kick him in the butt.”
“Lay…”
“Do you think I was kidding? I meant it when I said he’ll have me to answer to. You’re family, and no one messes with my family. Ride or die, remember?”
My chest explodes in fireworks at her words, but I say, “Just sit down and help me brainstorm.”
“Brainstorm ways to cut off his D? I’m game.”
“You’re such a dork.”
“Okay, all violent plotting aside, you might be onto something.”
“What something?”
“He’s reacting, isn’t he? Which means you’re affecting him, BUT if he hurts a hair on your head in any way, I’m serious. I’ll sneak into his palace and assassinate him, ninja style.”
I chuckle at the way she poses with her hands. “You need help, Lay.”
“First of all, suck my D. Second of all, you’re the one who needs help. You’re so into Jonathan, you’re hurt by the way he treated you.”
“I am not.”
“You are, too. Admit it, you already consider him Daddy.”
“Lay, stop it. And he’s not my daddy. You’re the one who’s into those.”
“Umm, mate. I only fantasise about them. You, on the other hand, go all the way in. Pun intended.”
I hit her shoulder and she laughs, standing to her feet. “Seriously, though. Don’t let him get to you and suck your light, or I’ll go mama bear all over his butt.”
“Thanks, Lay. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“No hugging.” She lifts her hands up in the air and runs away before I can do just that.
I touch my watch and shake my head, which fills with a thousand scenarios.
Layla is right about the part where Jonathan is reacting. He didn’t like that I somehow coerced him to share the same bed with me, and his knee-jerk reaction was to punish and slam me back in the place he thinks I belong to. I could either back down or push further — which will cost me his wrath.
Unlucky for him, I don’t lie down and take people’s anger. Especially the unwarranted kind.
My phone vibrates. Unknown Number.
Is this perhaps Ethan? I need to apologise about not being able to take him up on his offer. Though it’d be a nice ‘fuck you’ to Jonathan if I did.
“Aurora Harper speaking.”
“Miss Harper. This is Stephan Wayne.”
My muscles tighten and my hand shakes, causing droplets of my iced coffee to spill on the sofa.
Air comes in and out of my lungs, but it’s like I don’t breathe. Or, rather, I can’t.
Will I always react this way whenever Dad’s presence is brought up?
It’s been eleven years, damn it. Eleven fucking years, so how come it always feels as if it happened only yesterday?
Why do I feel trapped in that forest, pedalling down a dirt path but finding no way out?
“I told you not to contact me anymore.” I’m about to end the call.
“Miss, please. There’s crucial information that I think you should be aware of.”
My knuckles tighten around the phone. “What?”
“Are you certain about not being able to participate in the parole hearing? It will be in a few weeks.”
“No. If you have nothing else to say —”
“Very well. I understand your choice, Miss Harper. I would like to relay a message from my client. Mr Griffin says that if you don’t help him out this time, it’ll be like traps and hunting all over again. That will be all. Have a nice day.”