Total pages in book: 6
Estimated words: 6086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 30(@200wpm)___ 24(@250wpm)___ 20(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 6086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 30(@200wpm)___ 24(@250wpm)___ 20(@300wpm)
“Fuck, you taste so good,” I groan. Moving up, I stare down at her while jerking off over her.
“Don’t stop, Cain. Please. Make love to me,” she begs, writhing on the bed. I pull my boxers all the way down and guide my dick into her. Slowly at first, then I slam into her, tearing through her innocence.
“Fuck, Georgia. You’re mine now,” I growl, trying to keep from coming immediately.” I can’t believe she’s a virgin. How the hell did men keep their hands off of her?
“Yes,” she moans, taking my whole dick in stride. “Move,” she demands, and I fuck in and out of her. I watch as my dick disappears into her and reappears, wet with her pussy juice. I feel like I’ve died, and this right here is my ultimate reward. Over and over, I fuck into her, leaning down and kissing her. I fill her with my seed, wanting nothing more than to breed her and tie her to me forever.
I don’t care what I have to do; this girl will be my wife.
The following day, I am in the Island Oasis office with Abel. We are discussing the idea he has for a hotel in Anaheim. I am trying hard not to think about Georgia, who was still in my bed when I left this morning. For the first time in my adult life, I skipped my workout and stayed in bed... with her. I lost track of how many times I made love to her or just how many times I came inside of her. Sometime between dinner and this morning, I fell in love with her, hard. She sets my soul on fire, and I want to spend every moment for the rest of my life with her. The Georgia I read about in the magazines is nothing like the girl I’ve come to know. She’s quiet and polite, and let’s face it, that Central Park Cathedral orgy never fucking happened. How can the press just say whatever the hell they want to and report it as factual news? It makes me wonder about what else they lie about.
“Are you listening to me, Cain?” Abel asks, jarring me from my thoughts.
“No,” I answer honestly and then chuckle. “Sorry, bro. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Would this have anything to do with you wouldn’t go to the bar with me last night?”
“It might. I met someone.”
“Whoa, bro. Really?” Abel is three years younger than me, but we share the same belief that our wife should be the only one for us, so he knows how big this is for me. Our father told us a long time ago that women are everywhere, but the one who was made for you is worth the wait. Patience is key, and it pays off in the end. He was right. “Tell me about her.”
“It’s Georgia Stockridge; she’s staying at the hotel.”
“Little Georgia Stockridge?” he asks.
“She’s not little anymore,” I tell him.
“Don’t you remember that Christmas party a hundred years ago where you rescued her from under that tree?”
“That was her?” I ask incredulously.
“Yes. Her mother was panicked, thinking she’d been kidnapped, and you walk of their living room with her asleep in your arms. She must have been nine, ten years old then.”
“I barely remember that party. I think I had just twenty-one. It was a bit of blur.”
“Gotcha. Well, I remember it. That’s a hell of a story for your guys.”
“I like this one better,” I tell him.
“So, what are you going to do now?”
“Marry her.”
“Good luck with that. I heard from Mom that she’s engaged to Alexandros Anastassakis.”
“What?” I shout. Alex Anastassakis’s family is a Greek hotelier and our biggest rival.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. That’s just what I heard.”
“I gotta go,” I say, getting up from behind the desk.
“Go get her, bro,” Abel says, chuckling.
What the fuck? How could she not tell me that she’s engaged to the biggest dick in the world? He literally introduces himself as Jennifer Aniston’s sixth cousin. Who does that?
I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she marries me first.
Chapter Four
Georgia
“Nedeara, I need you. How fast can you get to Key West?” I ask my cousin over the phone.
“I’m in Miami right now. My photoshoot is over, so maybe two hours. Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m in love.”
“Well, that was quick. Didn’t you just get there?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, who is he?”
“Cain Adams.” Even saying his name makes my heart flutter.
“Cain Adams?”
“Yeah. Will you come?”
“Of course. I’m leaving now.”
I look up as the door beeps and then flies open.
“You’re engaged?” Cain shouts, looking enraged.
“Um… I gotta go. See you soon,” I say into the phone.
“Ooh, good luck with that. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I say before hanging up.
“Was that him?” he sneers, arms crossed over his chest.
“Who?”
“Your fiance.”
“I don’t have a fiance. Where did you hear that?”