Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
I turned it over and saw Carlita + Tom Ferrano in blue ink. There was a heart drawn in red pen under the ink as well as dotting the i in Mom’s name.
Tommy’s father. What on Earth? Is that why he seemed familiar? Because I’ve seen this picture and his name on it over the years? It felt like something else was familiar, beyond the picture about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I heard someone coming down the stairs. A man, maybe in his early to mid-30’s, rushed into the room, the man from the driveway this morning. He was a giant, had to be almost 7 feet tall, had a reddish goatee, a shaved head, had tattooed hands, and pretty much looked like a badass biker dressed in a suit. His facial expression was filled with relief.
He leaned on the door frame, as if catching his breath, pulled out his phone and dialed, then said, “She’s in the basement! Storage room. Yeah.”
I was sitting on the floor cross-legged in Tommy’s shirt, Tommy’s robe, with papers and piles of folded clothing around me. After what felt like a too-long awkward moment with the giant biker guy Tommy was behind him with eyes that were crazy-scary. Tommy was dressed in just a pair of track pants that sat low on his hips. He wore nothing else, but his crucifix necklace.
“Okay,” Tommy said, and the guy left.
I felt the overwhelming urge to turtle, to totally cower and that’s not me. He’s got me turned into a nervous wreck.
I was sure I was staring at him like a timid rabbit. I felt my chin start quivering. The anger seemed to drain from Tommy’s beat-up looking face (Fuck, I did that. Me!) and then he fell to his knees in front of me and let out a deep breath, looking me right in the eyes with tenderness.
Tenderness? Was I reading that right? I felt my face crinkle, confused. He grabbed me and pulled me against him. His heart hammered against me. I stiffened.
“I thought you were gone,” he said softly into my ear and squeezed tighter.
I didn’t know how to respond.
“I’m sorry about yesterday, baby,” he said into my ear so low it was barely audible.
Then he leaned back and his hand curled around the back of my neck. He looked at my face and his eyes travelled from my eyes to my mouth and then my eyes again. Then his mouth was on mine and he was kissing me like he’d kissed me at the beach.
I didn’t want to respond. He didn’t deserve having me respond after all he’d done so far. But for some reason, I did.
His tongue darted into my mouth and his other hand was on my rear. He was hard; I felt it. He was hard whenever he was against me. He gently took me down so my back was on the floor and his hand travelled underneath the bathrobe, underneath the shirt of his I was wearing He was rubbing a nipple with one hand while the other hand travelled up my body from my hip to my shoulder, resting to cup my head.
I looked up at him and chewed my lower lip. He didn’t have anger on his face at all. He was looking at me with some other expression; I didn’t know what it was.
And then he was grinding into me and kissing me, running his hands through my hair. I wanted to be afraid, but I was so relieved that he wasn’t freaking out that I just let him. It made no sense in the world, but I was letting him. His cross necklace was dangling over me, touching my throat.
Right now, he wasn’t the criminal, he was the guy on the date, and I kissed him back. His fingers were inside of me and rubbing me and before my actions registered in my brain I rubbed both of my palms up and down his arms to his shoulders and then one of my hands reached down into his track pants and I wrapped my hand around his cock and squeezed.
He moaned into my mouth and said, “Let’s take this upstairs.” I let go of him and he helped me to my feet and walked, holding my hand, out of the storage room, up the stairs, through the hall, past the kitchen, and back up the stairs to the master bedroom. The whole way I was staring at the muscular detail of his naked back, feeling so turned on. So inexplicably turned on.
Once the bedroom door was shut, he lifted me up gently under my arms and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed my throat while walking the few paces to the bed and then put me down on it and climbed on top of me, kissing my mouth so passionately I was melting. Before I knew it I was out of his robe, out of his shirt and my panties, and he was deep inside me, making love to me. Yes, making love to me.