Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
But he doesn’t look back. He simply gets out of his truck before entering his trailer. The connection is broken, and I’m left gasping and weak-kneed. What just happened?
You know what just happened, the voice in my head says. There’s something between you and this guy.
Yes, but I’m already sleeping with FOUR men! Isn’t that enough?
Yeah, but what’s one more? the voice in my head sniggers. Besides, you’ve been getting tired of the slut-life, Chloe. Maybe Carl Jonsson could be your one and only.
I snort because where in the world are these ideas coming from? Yet I have to admit that I’m intrigued by the thought. Somehow, I just know that Carl Jonsson doesn’t share women. The man is an alpha male, and he’s not the type for sloppy seconds. But would he even want me? Especially given my current lifestyle? Before I realize it, I’ve put down the watering can, and my feet are moving towards his trailer. My breath comes fast even as my breasts tremble, but I want to get to know this man … even if I’m humiliated in the process.
4
Carl
I plop down on an armchair in my trailer. The place is small, but I rearranged shit so that I could fit my huge Barcalounger. It’s a monster made of brown pleather, with stuffing erupting from a couple small rips in the material, but I don’t care. This thing is comfortable, and I’ve taken it with me wherever I go the last couple years.
Still, I can’t relax at the moment because I saw Chloe just seconds ago. The beautiful blonde looked gorgeous in a tiny white mini-skirt and red halter top. Her big boobs strained at the fabric, and the mid-thigh hem showed off her long, golden legs. What the fuck? What was she doing, watering plants in that outfit?
Not only that, but she looked at me and something happened. Electricity shot through the air, and I was paralyzed for a moment. I literally stopped breathing as blood rushed through my veins. The world shrank until it was only me and her, staring at one another, before something snapped me out of my reverie, and I turned away. Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me? That girl is in high school. Not only that, but I have double cocks. My secret anatomy needs to stay just that—a secret. I can’t go around sharing it with a girl who’s sleeping with multiple dudes at the trailer park.
Grunting, I take another sip of my cold beer, letting the bitter tang curdle my tongue. But then there’s a tap at the door, and I lean my head back, hoping that whoever it is will go away. Samantha Jenkins has been known to come over to “borrow a cup of sugar” on occasion, but I know what the divorcee really wants. She shows up in tight dresses hoping to spark a conversation before getting a good drill on.
I’m silent, taking another swig at my beer. The silence is loud in my ears and I smirk. It worked, motherfucker. But then the tap comes again, and then a sweet voice calls, “Mr. Jonsson? Carl? It’s me, Chloe Mackie.”
Oh shit, the beautiful girl’s at my door! What the hell does she want? Putting down my beer, I heave myself out of the Barcalounger and stride to the door before opening it.
“Yeah?”
Chloe looks up at me with big blue eyes, limpid and innocent. Her blonde hair curls about her shoulders, and I have a view straight down the front of her top and into the dark shadow between her large breasts. Oh shit, her flesh is creamy and soft, and I’d give anything to run my tongue between those two orbs, tasting her sweetness.
But I can’t because it would be wrong. As a result, I merely stare at her.
“Yeah?”
Chloe visibly swallows, her elegant throat rippling.
“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted me to water your flowers,” she begins, holding up her tin watering can. “I’m working on my greenery, and I noticed that you have some begonias. They look like they could use some sustenance.”
I blink, startled. Begonias? But then I remember that there are a couple purple blossoms in a planter next to my trailer. They aren’t actually mine. They belong to Len Wooden in the next row.
“Those are Len’s,” I growl, fixing Chloe with my blue eyes. “He keeps them here because his trailer doesn’t get enough shade. Ask him.”
I hate myself for being so gruff, but this girl doesn’t know what’s good for her. I need to drive her away, stat, before the monster in me comes out. Yet Chloe’s a brave one, and she straightens, her small chin coming up.
“Sure, will do. Be right back.”
Then, she disappears as I shut the door, stunned. Be right back? What does that mean? Sure enough, another knock sounds on the door within a few minutes, and it’s Chloe standing before my trailer again, still delectable in her tiny outfit with those big breasts pushed out.