Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 130102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
For fuck’s sake, there went his orgasm high. “Chelle, you don’t gotta do this. It’s a lotta work.”
She smiled. “So is all the painting you’re going to do.”
He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “Right. We’ll do some this weekend.”
“And I’ll get a lesson together for Tuesday. One night a week won’t be enough, though. I’ll make a schedule.”
She would make a fucking schedule.
“Fuckin’ you once a week won’t be enough, either. So, fit that in, too.”
Christ, painting, reading lessons, fucking Chelle...
He needed to head up the mountain at least once a week, too.
Another problem might be, if he was gone from the farm more often, questions about his whereabouts could be raised. He might have to give Trip a heads up. But then, of fucking course, that would lead to more questions.
And questions would lead to more answers he didn’t want to give.
Fuck.
Chapter Fourteen
The lessons were slow, torturous and frustrating as all fuck. Only bearable because he got to spend time with Chelle.
Painting sucked ass. Only bearable because he got to spend time with Chelle.
And her girls.
A couple of times in the past two weeks, one or both of her daughters joined them. Basically making more of a mess than actually helping. It was worth it, though. He got to listen to the three of them chatter away. Joking, laughing, talking about boys, school and their jobs. He got to watch them interact, their love and the closeness they shared unmistakable and real.
Even better, more talking between them meant less talking for Shade.
But within all the words they shared with each other, they only talked about what was happening in their lives currently or in the near future.
They never talked about the past.
Never mentioned the man in the picture.
Chelle never mentioned her husband. The girls never mentioned their father.
He wasn’t sure if that was normal for them, or if they didn’t want to talk about him in front of Shade.
Maybe the reason the man was no longer in the picture was because he was abusive and a complete dick, and they were happy to be rid of him. But if that was true, it made no sense why Chelle would keep her wedding picture on the mantel.
And only that one.
He wanted to ask. He fought asking every fucking night they spent together at her kitchen table and every weekend he was there to paint.
He didn’t ask because it wasn’t his fucking business. If she wanted to talk about him, she would and Shade would simply listen.
Not only were the reading lessons frustrating, so were the last two weeks since they hadn’t had the opportunity to fuck again.
Shade had even pulled Ozzy aside and asked about using one of the rooms.
Oz had given him a knowing look, a grin and a, “Fuck yeah, brother, whenever you need it.”
Chelle also decided they weren’t fucking again until they could do it in a bed. And not until Shade was fully naked.
He was good with the first, not so good with the second. But he’d figure it out when the time came.
Only they hadn’t had the time to do it in a bed and her requirement meant a quickie behind the shed was out. Which sucked because he needed to be inside Chelle again soon.
Most of the time he sat next to her with a raging hard-on, dying to sweep the books and the laptop to the floor and take her right there on the kitchen table.
It had come close a couple of times.
After his lessons, he’d gone back to the farm, did what Red called a little self-medicating and then, a little self-help.
But, for fuck’s sake, that was getting old.
Instead of painting this afternoon after the club run, he hoped they’d hit the motel instead.
Chelle’s girls were spending the day with their cousins and some friends, so they probably wouldn’t even know their mother wasn’t home. If they came home early, they were more than old enough to take care of themselves and at least wouldn’t catch him with his pants down and his dick in their mother.
He might not talk a shitload, but he had a hard time not staring at Chelle like she was his favorite meal. So, he figured the girls had a feeling about the two of them.
On the weekends, while they painted, or even during dinner afterward, he caught the nudges and whispers between the sisters whenever they noticed Chelle and Shade “accidentally” brushing against each other, whether it was their fingers, shoulders or even their hips.
Even more telling was the flush in Chelle’s cheeks, the sparkle in her brown eyes, or the way her nipples responded when he was close.
Or her ragged breathing when he was even closer.
Even so, he was pretty damn sure they would approve of their mother getting laid. Maybe even encourage it. Which meant they wouldn’t be upset if they caught him with his dick in their mother.