My Boyfriend’s Possessive Daddy Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Taboo, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
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“Please call me Ethan.”

She looks down, her expression turning shy. The way she bites her bottom lip is somehow sexy to me, and I find myself fighting the urge to push her up against the wall and kiss her. Feeling my cock twitching and knowing I need to keep it from stiffening, I start mentally running through as much of the medical vocabulary textbook I used back in college that I can remember to stave it off. When I think I’ve got my hormones under control, I clear my throat.

“She still has a bit of a road ahead of her,” I tell Elodie. “I don’t want your grandmother exerting herself too much just yet. But I did tell her I want her to begin taking small daily walks. No more than fifteen or twenty minutes at a time for now.”

“Fifteen to twenty minutes. Got it.”

“Don’t let her push it. I’m telling you because I know your grandmother and I know she’ll try to push beyond what I want. And I wouldn’t put it past her to tell you I said half an hour or more,” I tell her with a laugh.

“Wow, you really do know my grandmother.”

“I’ve gotten to know her a bit, yeah. She’s a firecracker.”

“She really is.”

We share a laugh that lapses into a silence that crackles with a sense of anticipation. Elodie raises her jade green eyes to me, her full lips slightly parted, looking like she has something to say but is having trouble finding the words. I’m curious about what’s on her mind so I give her a little time to gather her thoughts.

“I just … I wanted to say thank you for stepping in the other day at the diner,” she says. “I wanted to thank you for getting Todd to leave me alone.”

I’m not sure if that’s what she was originally going to say, but I’m not going to press it. If she really has something else to say, she’ll get around to it.

“You’re welcome,” I reply.

She shifts on her feet, looking uncomfortable. “That guy … he’s been that way since high school. He’s been trying to get me to sleep with him since I was a freshman and he was a senior. He wouldn’t take no for an answer back then, and apparently, that hasn’t changed.”

“Sounds like a real charmer of a guy.”

“Right?”

“I haven’t dealt with him often since I’ve been in Emerson, but those few occasions when I’ve had to, they haven’t been pleasant experiences. He’s kind of a scumbag.”

“I’d say you know him as well as you know my grandmother then.”

My lips twist wryly. “Trust me, your grandmother is a lot more pleasant to deal with.”

Another silence descends on us, and this one seems a little more awkward and expectant. Elodie shifts on her feet again, her hands in the pockets of her jeans, and that urge to grab and kiss her becomes almost overpowering. Controlling myself is getting exponentially harder the longer I stand here looking into those big green eyes.

“I didn’t, you know,” she says suddenly.

“Didn’t what?”

“Sleep with him. Todd. I never slept with him. I’ve never slept with anybody—” she stammers then quickly bites off her words as if she realizes she’s said too much.

“I didn’t think you did. You seem to be a woman with better taste than that,” I say lightly. “Not that it’s any of my business, anyway.”

Why she feels the need to explain her sexual history is beyond me, but the way her cheeks flush and the deep dimples in her cheeks, as she smiles, are adorable. She giggles, and it’s a light, sweet sound. Elodie’s eyes gleam with an inner light and she looks embarrassed. But there’s something else in her eyes too. It’s almost as if she wanted me to know she’s a virgin for some reason. I don’t know why, but it’s actually kind of hot.

“Sorry,” she says when she stops giggling. “I tend to ramble sometimes.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“I just don’t want you thinking I have a totally high body count or something,” she rambles.

“Body count?”

“Oh. Uh. Number of sexual partners.”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t think you were,” I reply. “But it’s not my place to judge you even if you were. Nor would I.”

She cringes and mortification crosses her face. “Oh, God, I’m doing it again. I’m sorry. I tend to ramble on and talk too much.”

I laugh. “It’s actually kind of sweet. Don’t apologize.”

It’s a charming personality quirk, to be sure. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also enjoy knowing that Elodie is a virgin. The thought of being the first to taste her sweet nectar and plunge into her warm, wet depths is a heady one. There’s a certain glimmer in her eyes that makes me think she wants me to know that about her. That perhaps she’s nervous and rambling, but she wants me to have that piece of personal information. It could be wishful thinking, but I don’t think it is.


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