Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Working in construction was just another way to stick it to my father.
Higher education? Fuck that. I got a job ... but it didn’t last for long. I’m just not made to work for someone else and I wanted a more physical job. So, I started Gray’s Homes with Liam nearly three years ago. He had the schooling and I had the designs. I didn’t think it’d be this successful or grow so quickly. So successful, in fact, that I ran out of capital and so did he. I took out loan after loan, investing in myself and I’d do it all over again. It was worth it to keep growing and taking advantage of the momentum we had. I should have known better when my father came to me and offered to invest in me too.
Clients were eager to sign contracts with his name on them. Having him back me made bids easier to attain and everything run smoother. I knew it was too good to be true.
He just wanted to be able to hold it over my head. He wanted to own me. I narrow my eyes at the model in the center of the room. It’s all because of this one project. Now I’m in debt. I owe more than I’m worth and everything is hanging in the balance as we move forward with this one project that I’d love to trash just to spite my father. I should cancel it all now that I know the truth, but that would mean bankruptcy and more people than just myself being affected. Liam and all our employees and contractors. At the thought, there’s a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. One even a night of whiskey and great sex can’t dissolve.
I pull my eyes back to the computer screen, back to reviewing all the invoices that have been paid. Everything’s moving accordingly and on schedule, but only because of my father’s loan.
I run a hand over my face knowing I’m just as much of a fucking prick. I don’t deserve to breathe the same air as someone as sweet as Jules.
The thought of her shy smile and innocent looks ... God, it does something to me. The guilt and anger are minimal compared to the desire. I want to feel her again. I want to get lost in her touch and be the one to do the same for her.
I can make it all better.
She has no idea how screwed up this situation is. If my father knew who I’d spent last night with, I imagine I’d never hear the end of it. He may be a piece of shit and deserve to be locked away for the rest of his life, but if the world knew what I’d done, they would think the same of me.
I click the mouse to light up my screen as it goes dim once again. I can’t think; I can’t focus.
As my temples throb and irritation grows, I think back to last night. Back to Jules.
Out of every possible way for this morning to start, I never guessed she’d sneak out.
I imagined how the morning would go over and over again while I watched her sleep, her long hair a messy halo on the pillow. So peaceful and beautiful.
I couldn’t get over how fucked up it was. How selfish. But it was everything I wanted and more. It was fucking worth it.
As she slept, exhausted and spent from the raw fuck, my fingers longed to travel along her curves. I was still hard for more.
Staring at her lush lips, the vision of her eyes shut tight, her head thrown back, and her mouth parted with soft, strangled moans spilling between them was etched in my memory. It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Jules was utterly in rapture from what I was doing to her. She was completely at my mercy and I know she loved every minute.
I tugged the blankets over myself and lay there watching her, debating how I’d end it in the morning. I could crave her more than anything, but it was over. It should never have started to begin with. As I thought up exactly what to say to ease the sting, I watched her steady breathing and my lungs filled with her sweet scent.
Just once more. I should have woken her up, spread her legs wide and taken her again. Had I known that I’d wake up alone, I would have.
I lean back in my seat, letting out the aggravation in a groan as I watch the security footage again. She slipped out just before dawn, leaving only a note behind. I watch in amusement as she keeps looking up from the pad of small sticky notes she’d found on my kitchen counter. The pen never even touched the paper for a full two minutes as she contemplated what to write.