Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 56149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
I move over a little to the next window, and there she is. My Tessa. Her bed is on the other side of the room, this window letting in a little of the moonlight. I can’t see her as much as I’d like between her curtains blocking my view and it being after midnight.
The room she’s in looks tight and cramped. The whole apartment is less than a thousand square feet, but I’ve seen the blueprints, and the other bedroom is much bigger with an attached bathroom. I can’t ever figure out why Tessa wouldn’t take the bigger room if this was her place first.
I touch the tips of my fingers to the glass, wishing I could trail them down her soft skin. I’ve never been close enough to her to touch her, but I bet it would be like touching a dandelion. Soft, delicate, and can be broken by the slightest puff of breath.
She’s lying on her side, and the curve of her hip sticks up under the sheets. I want to run my hands over that curve to her waist and wrap my arm around her. I want her thick curves molded against me as I spoon her body into mine. I want my hand overflowing with her big, full breasts as I pinch and pluck her nipples. I need her big, sexy ass cushioning my hard cock as I rest it there, ready to fuck her.
Her lips, a lush cupid’s bow, are parted slightly, and her eyes are closed sweetly as she dreams. Her auburn hair is spread out messily on her pillow, and all I can think about is fisting it in my hand as I thrust into her.
Shaking my head, I try to stop the desire that’s rushing through me. Now is not the time to lose my head.
I lean in closer to the glass, gently pressing my lips against the cool surface, kissing her goodnight from a distance. I take one final look at my angel and move away from the window. Glancing into the living room one last time, I see Harper still in the same position. There has got to be a good reason she’d want to live with Tessa. The only conclusion I can draw from what I’ve seen is that she’s there out of sheer desperation.
I make my way down the fire escape. When I get to the bottom, I grab the ladder and push it back up. We wouldn’t want any creeps trying to sneak a peek now, would we?
I feel a wicked smile on my face as I turn from the building and make my way back to my car.
I’m living on the other side of downtown at the moment, in a warehouse. I like to move around a lot to keep hidden from any enemies who might try to find me. The people who need me for jobs know exactly how to get in touch with me.
There’s an old bar on the East Side. An old guy named Sal works behind the bar. If you go in with my name and a piece of paper, he’ll get it to me. I used to run jobs for Sal back in the day, and he’s about the only person I can trust. I think back to my childhood on the streets and shake my head. No time to dwell on the past.
Getting behind the wheel of my Chevelle, I think of my Tessa. I’ve got to go home and get a few hours of sleep. I plan on introducing myself to my love tomorrow. Her fate has been set. She’s mine now.
Chapter 3
Tessa
“Are you going to eat that?” The breakfast burrito pauses halfway to my mouth as I glance at Harper across the counter in the kitchen. She’s got her eyes trained on her phone as she hurriedly types away at a speed that seems almost impossible. If only she could work that fast on the computer at work, maybe I wouldn’t have to help her out so much. Who she could possibly be texting this early on a Thursday morning, I have no idea, but as always that thing is glued to her hand.
“What’s wrong with it?” I look down at my breakfast burrito. It’s nothing fancy, but it will hit the spot. I popped it in the microwave, and it will mostly keep me full until lunch. I tend to get grumpy when I go without food, and being in customer service, grumpy doesn't bode well.
“It’s fattening.” I look past her to the container of melted ice cream that she went at last night and which is still sitting on the coffee table. The thing is, Harper can eat and eat and eat and she’s still rail thin. I wasn’t blessed with the same gene, but I’d long ago given up caring what I ate. No diet on earth seemed to work, and I didn’t have the energy to worry about it anymore. Not like I was dating. No one was going to be seeing me naked, so I might as well enjoy the burrito. It would probably be the most orgasmic thing I’d experience today.
I go to take my first bite, and Harper makes a disgusted noise. I clench my jaw, and embarrassment hits my cheeks. I can feel the blood rush to my face, making my fair skin light up. I’m not great at hiding my feelings. Everything’s always on display for everyone to see. I might not want to diet, but it still hurts when someone calls you out on your weight. With her one sound, my appetite is gone. Maybe that’s the key to a successful diet. Always try to eat with Harper in the room. You’ll be stick thin in a month.
I drop the burrito onto the counter and move past her towards my bedroom to get ready for work. “I’ll be ready in a second,” I mumble, upset she got the better of me. I thought I got over those silly things like my weight a long time ago, but it seems to be rearing its ugly head lately. This might have something to do with Harper, but my grandma always told me when someone pokes at you, it’s usually their own insecurities showing. That makes me feel bad for Harper. I think a lot of her comments have more to do with her than me.