Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Brandon
“So… This place is really pretty… nice. Inside, I mean,” Steve finally says, taking a look around once he’s said his piece, and I’ve had mine.
Most of it anyway.
I’m not going to tell him how I feel about May yet. He doesn’t need another thing on his plate quite yet.
Not tonight.
I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one day, although there’s still plenty to come, I’m sure of it.
And if May’s as horny for my seed as I am to put it in her, then it won’t be long before trying to keep any of this under wraps would be pointless.
“Uhhh, yeah. The previous owner had the interiors done, furnished it, and lived in it,” I say, realizing it’s probably not the best story to tell him right now either.
“So what happened? Why didn’t they finish the outside? Looks like a mess out there, but inside? Very nice. Furnished too,” Steve remarks, genuinely curious about the neighbors he probably never met, being so busy with his work all the time.
I feel my face redden a little, and I practically sigh my answer. “They ran outta money. Had to sell,” I remark, trying to sound casual, but I can see Steve’s expression shift.
After the discussion we’ve just had, I feel bad raising the topic of finances, but it’s the truth. The original owner went bust, and the bank foreclosed, selling it at a reduced rate, being an incomplete restoration.
I got the place for a steal, but I also learned years ago that feeling bad because other people fail gets you nowhere. We each make our own way in life. The previous owner’s plans just didn’t pan out.
No reason to let that stop me with mine. And that includes my plans with May too.
Whether Steve gets on board with the idea when the time comes or not, it’s not gonna stop me from claiming what’s mine.
“It’s just so… Nice,” Steve eventually says again, stifling a yawn before pulling a smile.
“We good?” he asks, shooting me a mock suspicious sideways glance.
He’s a perfect parody of himself from earlier today. Setting himself up a bit, giving me that version of his not so easy going, serious side.
“We’re always good, Steve.” I smile back. “Even when we’re acting like a couple of old bastards.”
Steve chuckles, but I go quiet when he has the final word before heading home to his place next door.
“And to think…Nah… It’s too crazy,” he says.
“What?” I ask, concerned by his sudden look of embarrassment.
“Well, it does sound crazy now,” he says loudly, half rolling his eyes toward the high ceiling.
“But for a minute there, I was even starting to think May might’ve had a thing for you. Y’know, like a schoolgirl crush.”
His words stun me, and although my look doesn’t register with Steve, hearing him even say that makes me feel like I’m watching a bomb waiting to detonate.
I don’t know exactly when it’ll go off, but it’s as though Steve’s getting warmer.
Closer to the truth by the hour.
And I haven’t even claimed May yet.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask, and Steve’s brow creases.
“What?” he asks sharply, turning to face me.
“I mean…About me moving back to town and springing all this on ya all of a sudden. Moving in right next door…,” I add, really only meaning to steer the conversation away from May and her little ‘crush.’
And spotting her still wet, torn panties on the sofa, I feel a jolt of panic and literally spin Steve toward the door.
Amazed that he hasn’t seen them.
Amazed at how fucking turned on I get when I see them. Thinking of May right there on the couch with her ankles over my shoulders, her steaming pussy in my mouth just a few minutes ago.
If dad knew just how far his daughter’s ‘crush’ had gone in one day, I don’t think we’d be having the same conversation.
But Steve’s quick to assure me that he’s glad I’ve come home.
Gladder still to have me as his neighbor too.
“I just wanna be able to provide for my own family, B. Y’know?” he says, stopping by the front door and lowering his voice.
He even looks around as if anyone’s gonna hear. But I know what he’s about to say long before he says it.
“You know I’d never ask you for money… But if you could somehow help me drum up some business for the shop? Y’know…whatever it is you big city folk do to make your millions,” he jokes, but I know he’s being serious.
“If I just had the customers like I used to, I’d have the business. I could hire back the mechanics I had to lay off. I just don’t have the…,” he starts to say, but I know exactly what he means.
I’ve been thinking the same thing all day.
If I can’t give Steve money, then I’ll give him customers. And lots of ‘em.