Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
I had options to consider. Keep her, try to forget about the existence of the club. Let the profits continue to go into an untraceable account offshore and send someone, probably Stan, as a rep to the meetings when I had to. Do what we often did with the construction business; sub it out. Back away. Let it happen for now and just concentrate on the plan to sell Ferrano Enterprises and figure it all out later.
Or, fuck it all. Take the money we had squirreled away and grab my sisters, Ed, Lisa, the kids, and fuck off somewhere, maybe to Costa Rica where Tia and Tommy were living in paradise under fake names.
And her. Leave her a decorative piece in the apartment three doors down. Set her up with counselling. Wait a few months and stage her death, pull that tracking implant and bury it, but really sneak her out the back door and set her up with a life on another continent under a new name.
Or, see where this thing could go. Face the fact that I was too fucking hungry to be reasonable, too infatuated by her and the idea of what she could give me to last more than a few days before I had tasted her, fucked her, fuckin’ lapped up her hero worship of me.
What if I just followed Tommy’s suit, took what was given to me and kept it, protected it with every ounce of my being, hoping I’d get my happily ever after, too, and that I’d somehow miraculously escape karma for keeping her? I knew what I should do. I also knew I probably wouldn’t do it. Not after tasting what she had to give, what she begged me to take.
I worked until after 10:00 that night and then had a video chat with my brother about business until after 11:00. I didn’t bring up any personal shit. He asked how it was going with my houseguest and I’d said ‘fine’ then changed the subject, didn’t tell him I’d fucked her, that I was thinking about keeping her, that the dilemma had me twisted up inside. I kept it to myself.
When I got home, she was asleep on the futon in my den. Shit.
I’d been an asshole that morning and then left her alone all day without calling and now here I was, standing over her while she slept. When I’d gotten in and saw she wasn’t in my bed at first, I panicked. Of course, she wasn’t in my bed, she’d never just presume that she was allowed to be there. At first, I went back to my bed and lay in it staring at the ceiling for ten minutes. Only ten minutes and here I was. I should leave her, create some distance. But what if she has a nightmare? What if she lets me create distance?
I leaned over and scooped her up into my arms.
Her eyes opened and she looked at me with a little bit of fear and then with another emotion; it looked like affection and need. It gnawed at my gut, and I felt a mixture of desire and regret. I carried her to my bedroom without a word, put her on my bed, and then I was on her, on her like white on rice, yanking clothes off, grabbing a handful of her hair, which was again curly, thank fuck, but grabbing it probably a little roughly, and slamming my mouth down on hers.
She spread wide for me and moaned into my mouth. I rammed my cock into her, hard into her, and for a minute I held her so tight I was worried I was gonna hurt her. She went from asleep to wide open and completely wet in just seconds. I played with her clit while I fucked her and her hips circled and circled until she convulsed around my cock, crying out a “Thank you, Master” that made me come two and a half seconds later.
I held her tight, burying my nose into her hair and kissing her over and over, along her jaw, up and down her throat, on her soft lips, on her eyelids. It almost split me in two when she again said, with so much emotion in her voice, “Thank you for saving me.”
“You’re welcome, sweet Angel,” I answered.
“Please keep me,” she said, her voice laced with emotion.
I sighed. “You gotta gimme me time to figure this out, baby. My head is fucked over this.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t ask again. Take all the time you need, Dare. I’m yours for as long as you want me.”
Mine. Fuck.
“Sorry I was a dick today.”
She snuggled in and said, “You don’t have to say sorry to me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You don’t. But thank you for saying it anyway.”
I didn’t fall asleep for a long while. She took every kindness from me as a gift. She deserved to expect kindness. Could she get to where she didn’t feel so grateful for any scrap I gave her? I only worried that once she did, she wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want me. Not because I wasn’t good enough but because she wouldn’t need me. She’d start to wonder where her life could go without being owned.