Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I continue to sip on my scotch while listening to Heath give himself a goddamn heart attack over his predicament. It sure is one. I can attest to that. Falling for the young and untouchable. Oh, do I know how wrong it is. I debate on responding with ‘at least she’s not your best friend’s daughter,’ but take another sip to hide my humor. Or is it stress? Fuck. He goes on and on. Worried about how Hazel would take the news if she found out. I can’t argue with him. She’ll be upset. Hazel has always been this sweet girl hiding behind this firecracker of a woman. She’s been dealt a lot in her young life, and it’s forced her to grow up too fast. Not that I’m complaining about the woman she’s become.
Maybe I should be the smarter of us two and tell him to cut it off now before shit gets to be too much and there’s no going back. Instead, I convince him his daughter would accept it in the hope that he reads between the lines and doesn’t murder me when she confesses the same sin.
My phone alert tells me Hazel is almost here. I give Heath the runaround, then leave him drowning in his own thoughts. As I walk through the club, I call for my car, then speed through downtown until the streets become less hectic and I’m driving up to my estate. My mind runs rabid with my filthy plans. Having her back in my grasp and taking everything she offers. And then taking some more.
I find her waiting for me, her silhouette glowing under the entryway light. My appetite heightens, but it’s not for an aged single malt. It’s for the sweetness of her cunt. The sugary taste of her skin. The softness of her smile alone quenches my thirst.
I drink her in, dressed in a short sweater dress, her hair falling angelically down her slender back. I don’t bother to pull my car into the garage and climb out, loosening my tie as I make my way up the corridor.
“Hey, I didn’t know if I should just go in or wait—”
I don’t allow her the chance to finish. I scoop her up into my arms, not resisting the opportunity, and spank her hard and firmly. Her sexy little squeal wakens my cock, and I carry her inside and straight down to my playroom like a barbarian.
Two days later…
I have Hazel sprawled out on my bed, quenched, and panting from a round of the most amazing sex I’ve ever had. Yet again, I’ve broken another one of my rules. I’ve royally fucked and sated Hazel in my bed. Not the one in my playroom, but in my private bedroom, where I allow no one but myself and the maid. I’m still trying to catch my own breath as she leans over and snuggles against my chest.
No matter how hard I take her, I cannot get enough. Hazel’s become this vice I can’t quit. She’s been in my playroom countless times, and still, I can’t quench my thirst. I. Need. More.
The days she’s not in my bed are torturous. They’re only forty-eight-hour gaps, but still, the absence puts me on edge.
I’ve been a motherfucker at work too. Fired three people for looking at me the wrong way. Even fired one for simply having blonde hair, reminding me of Hazel and how I couldn’t have her at the drop of a hat. I debated on convincing Heath he needed his little girl closer to home. Colleges were where sweet angels got assaulted by college boys, and she was better off at a local school. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch. And to have her close again…I’d homeschool her ass myself.
When I began this, it was a game—an itch I’d been dying to scratch. A last wish if I actually went through with it. But things have changed. I crave her every second of every goddamn day, and it’s killing me. Disrupting my work. Heath is right to call me a grumpy motherfucker. If I’m not deep inside his daughter, that’s who I become. She is a drug. Her sweet pussy. Her throaty moans. Her smooth, delectable skin. But also her laugh. The way she looks at me when she thinks I don’t notice. The way her fingers feel grazing down my back when she thinks I’m asleep and needs to touch me to know this is real—that we are real.
This brings up another thing that has my mind darkening. What the hell am I really doing? Living in a goddamn fantasy, thinking Hazel and I have anything more than a forbidden affair. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes I’m the villain and runs far away from me.
If Heath can do it, so can you.