Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
“He wanted us to go up to the bedroom with his wife.” I pause.
“Both of us. And he wanted to watch.”Her face falls. “You didn’t …”
“Maybe I should have. It was thousands of dollars,” I explain. “But that’s the thing, Krisjen. I found out what I wasn’t capable of, but maybe I had that luxury, because I had Macon. And he always took care of us. He found money somewhere. And then more. And then more. And I honestly don’t know if he was stealing it or killing for it, I was just grateful he never allowed me to be subjected to people like that again.”
It wasn’t even about the sex. Maybe I could’ve fucked her. Maybe I could’ve been paid to do it, and maybe even with her husband watching.
It was the embarrassment of them always thinking we could be bought and sold, and the shame of living just across the tracks. Of having to see them over the years and be constantly reminded that they could do that to us. I was twenty. I almost threw up in the driveway on my way out.
I’ll never let Dex find himself in a situation like that.
I look down into her eyes, glaring now at those blue pools and gripping that soft skin that I like more than I’ll ever admit, because Saints all feel the same. Like they’ve never worked a day or broken their backs under the hot sun. “You assume Dallas is the only one who doesn’t like rich little bitches who dangle us on a string.” I get in her face, my nose nearly brushing hers. “But as sweet as you are, I think you’ll be one of them in ten years, won’t you?”
She draws in a short, shallow breath, her fingers curling and her nails digging into my skin. She shakes her head, and I shake her.
“You’re not different,” I state. “You’re not. We can pretend for as long as we want, but we know where this story goes.”
I squeeze the backs of her thighs, hearing her whimper, and I don’t know why I’m taking it out on her.
But it feels good. I’m not twenty anymore, and I want to fuck one of this town’s daughters, even though I told Trace I wouldn’t touch her. She was bred to be desirable. This is what they’re for.
I’m hard in my jeans.
But she speaks, touching my face. “Look at me,” she says.
I do.
“I’m only looking at you,” she whispers.
The party swirls around us, but we may as well be alone, because nothing else exists. I’m the only one in her eyes, her voice is steady, and she’s mine until I put her down.
“You want to pay for me?” I hear the smile in her taunt. “You have more money than I do. You can play with us now.”
She comes in, brushing her lips over my cheek, and I wrap my arms around her like a steel band.
Fuck yes.
I slip us behind the potted tree, press her into the wall as the grandfather clock next to us goes off. I lose track of the chimes as I reach up and run my thumb up and down her throat.
“I would let you pay for me.” I rub my mouth up the nape of her neck. “But you wouldn’t have to.”
I heft her high and bring her back down, rubbing myself hard between her legs. She gasps, holds me tighter, and then she covers my mouth with hers, moaning. I start to rip her bikini top down, but she stops me, holding it in place.
God, I need to touch her.
Rolling her hips, she grinds on me, and I take her ass in my hands, situating myself between her legs as I pin her to the wall. I open my mouth, sinking my tongue inside hers. I jolt. Jesus. Something electric courses over my lips, down my jaw, and sinks straight into my stomach as I lose myself in her wet heat.
Releasing her mouth, I press my forehead to hers, staring into her eyes as I rub my thumb over one of her nipples poking through her top. The flesh hardens, and I want it in my mouth. Lifting her higher, I nibble it with my teeth, biting and licking over the fabric.
She whimpers and squirms. “Army …”
It sounds like a protest, but she’s dry-humping me.
We pant and moan, sweat covering my back, my cock straining against my jeans. I kiss her, reeling as she bites my bottom lip.
I reach down, unfastening my belt and opening my jeans. “No,” she finally says. She pulls away from my mouth, looking down to see my bulge between us.
I gently press her into the wall. “No?” I taunt.
I flick my tongue over her bottom lip, but I’m just fucking with her. I’m not mad. Just frustrated.