Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“This isn’t a cool place,” Cole says, frowning. “It should be condemned.”
Emma, with hands on her narrow hips, beams at the quaint building. She’s too pretty with the morning sunbathing her in its warm light. Strands of gold in her brown hair light up as if on fire. It’s hard to look away. I’m able to force my gaze away from her to the building she seems to be in love with.
“It’s charming,” Emma says breathlessly. “Right, Reid?”
The building needs work, but I can see the allure. Kind of reminds me when I’d bought Moonlit Gables. It was basically a shithole, but I knew I could make it something great.
“I like it,” I agree with a nod. “Nothing a little TLC couldn’t fix.”
We stare at it for a while longer and then Cole grunts after checking his watch. Time to get back. The run home goes by quickly. Cole parts ways with us, heading for his place to shower, while me and Emma go back to mine.
Amara’s car is now gone, leaving the two of us alone.
As the door closes behind us, electricity charges in the air. I’m distinctly aware of the fact we have one shower in this place and we both need it.
Don’t even think about sharing it with her, pervert.
“You go first,” I bite out harshly. “You have to get to school.”
She disappears up the stairs without another word. I pace the living room until I hear the shower start up. Once I deem it safe, I inch my way up the stairs. My feet slow to a stop in front of the bathroom door.
Why are you stopping, idiot?
I close my eyes and lean my sweaty forehead against the wood. Beyond the door, I can hear the water splashing as she washes up. I can’t help but imagine her tight ass free of the leggings, naked and soapy. My cock is now so hard, it strains against the fabric. Like a fool, I palm my hand over it to attempt to have it calm down.
But that feels good.
So, I rub some more.
And then I hear it.
A tiny whimper.
My eyes jolt open and my heart leaps into my throat. She makes the softest of sounds that wouldn’t be heard unless you were listening at the door like I am.
Is she getting herself off?
Why?
Because of me?
It’s stupid and unrealistic and horrible of me to think such a thing. Yet, the man who’s been denied sex for far too long, imagines she’s wishing it were my fingers touching her throbbing clit.
I bite on my bottom lip and do the unthinkable. With jerky movements, I shove my hand into my shorts and free my cock. It’s heavy and thick in my calloused hand. I stroke it roughly, wishing for a smaller, smoother hand instead. Each time she whimpers, I nearly climax right then.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
This is so wrong.
I need to just fuck Amara tonight so I can get over this forbidden need coursing through me.
Every thought of Amara, naked and writhing beneath me, transforms into Emma. I can’t force her out of my mind, no matter how hard I try. I’m outside the bathroom door as she showers, jerking off to thoughts of fucking her.
I bet she’s tight and juicy.
I’d tear her in half with my fat cock. I’d bruise her insides with every stab of my big dick.
“Oh fuck,” I mutter, voice shaking.
The water shuts off and I’m frozen. Silence fills the air. Do I bolt? No. I continue stroking my dick as I imagine her standing there wet and naked. A small groan escapes me as a soft splatter of cum hits the door. I jerk hard and fast, eager to expel all this illicit need for a girl younger than my own damn son.
Once completely spent, I rip off my shirt and carefully swipe it off the door. Then, I hold the wet material to my still-throbbing cock as I stumble toward my room. I’ve barely closed the door when I hear Emma’s voice.
“All yours now.”
The shower.
She means the shower.
Not her.
I yank my shorts up over my dick and then stuff my shirt into the hamper. I’ll have to do the laundry today to hide the evidence of my sick episode a few moments ago. The thought of Amara finding my cum-crusted shirt and demanding answers makes my stomach roil.
What did I just do?
Shame coats over me like black, sludgy oil. I want to scrape it off of me, flinging it as far away as possible. What I just did isn’t me. I’m not a cheater or some perv who checks out young woman. I’m a good man, dammit.
Good men don’t fuck their hand outside the door of their girlfriend’s daughter while she showers.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Nothing happened. It was a quick, reckless moment, but it’s over. I had to satisfy my sexual craving in a safe way, and I did. No one got hurt. Everything is fine.