Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 154037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Since doing that sort of enjoying was nothing but blasphemy, a line I could never cross, my frustrations were bubbling out, instead. I gestured wildly at the television. “What the hell are you watching?”
She scowled like I was ridiculous, but I could see the redness on her face had ratcheted by a thousand. Sitting up, she pointed the remote at the television and clicked it off. “Seriously, Otto, I think you might be worse than my brother. Twenty-five, remember?”
Good, let her think I was freaking out because I thought it was inappropriate she was watching it. Not because I was pummeled by the vision of getting on my knees, pushing up that dress, and doing the same.
Getting to all the sweetness underneath and sending her soaring.
“It’s not your delicate sensitivities I’m worried about. It’s mine. Disney Junior, remember?” I said it a tease.
She shook her head as she stood. “You’re ridiculous, do you know that?”
“Oh, darlin’, you don’t have the first clue.” I let as much coyness as I could muster coast into my voice.
She stretched those arms overhead, her back curving in the most delectable way. “I guess I’d better get to sleep, anyway. It’s been a really long day.” She glanced at the couch. “I’ll sleep here.”
“You know that’s not going to happen.”
“I don’t want to take your bed, Otto.”
There was no stopping myself from reaching out and brushing the pad of my thumb over the tiny, dark freckle on the edge of her upper lip. That spot that I never ceased wanting to dip in and lick.
She froze at the contact, shocked by my touch. I didn’t even try to go for light. “Want you in my bed, Raven.”
She didn’t need to know what that really meant.
She seemed to sway though, caught off guard by my words, before she slowly nodded. “I’ll find a place soon.”
Clearing my throat, I stepped back. “Come on, I’ll find you something to sleep in.”
She followed me into my bedroom, her bare feet padding up the steps behind me. Even though I could easily toss the girl over my shoulder, I still felt the weight of her like a riptide. Pulling fierce and strong, threatening to drag me under.
I crossed to my dresser, and my attention caught on the picture that I kept on display. A constant reminder of my purpose. The reason I could never give or take.
My teeth gritted, and I pulled open the top left drawer and dug around for a white tee. I turned to find Raven near my bed. Nerves ricocheted from that tight little body and battered into me.
I gulped my reaction down and took the four steps required to be standing in front of her. “Here you go. I’ll grab some fresh sheets.”
Before I could walk out, she reached out to stop me. “That’s not necessary.”
My brow furrowed. “You don’t want clean sheets?”
That lust-inducing mouth quirked, rippling with temptation. “I’m wrapped around you on your bike all the time, Otto. I think I can handle being wrapped in your sheets.”
Swore to God, the woman knew exactly what she was doing to me. She had to know the way my guts twined with a greed unlike anything I’d ever known with the suggestion that was clear in her voice.
But I knew better. She knew better.
I forced myself to take a step away before I did something I couldn’t take back. “Goodnight, Raven. Let me know if you need anything.”
I headed for the door, and her voice stopped me before I made it out. “Otto?”
I turned to look back at her from over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Just so you know, you’re my favorite person, too.”
SIXTEEN
OTTO
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
Otto hustled up the sidewalk that cut through the yard that was nothing but dead grass toward the small, tattered house. Its white paint peeling and the screen on the front window dislodged and barely hanging on at the corner.
He didn’t pause to knock. He didn’t want to give his pathetic excuse of a mother the chance to prepare for him.
He wanted to be sure what he was walking in on was legitimate and not fabricated. Not a result of more of her stellar manipulation.
The door complained against its hinges when he threw it open. The television was on, tuned too loud to some soap opera, though he could actually hear his sister’s laughter rising over it from somewhere in the kitchen.
He closed the door behind him and strode through the living room filled with worn furniture and old pictures, though for once, it was actually tidy and not littered with garbage. He edged right up to the small square arch and peered inside, gaze sweeping the surroundings.
Shock nearly knocked him flat when he found his mother stirring something at the stove. But it was Haddie laughing where she sat at the round table in the nook, clearly cackling at whatever wild story their mother was telling, that had him reeling.