Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
For a brief second, a terrible thought enters my mind: a boyfriend?
But then she turns to me, and I see the look on her face and realize that’s completely wrong. Whoever this is out there, Becca doesn’t want him here.
“Stop playing so hard to get,” the guy replies, slurring his words, obviously drunk off his ass. “Just admit that you want it and let me in. I know your dad’s gone, what’s the problem?”
“I’m the problem!” I stride up to Becca’s side and see a wiry, trashy goon in a stained white tank top with his filthy fingers wrapped around a beer standing on the steps, his glazed-over eyes looking up at Becca with the lust of a dog in heat. When he sees me, he laughs.
“And who are you? Her big brother?”
I step in front of Becca, blocking his view of her and look into her gorgeous, innocent eyes. “Go to your room. I’ll take care of this.”
Becca nods and looks at me with a trust that goes straight through my chest. “Okay.”
I watch her go, her hips swaying as she tiptoes away to her room. She’s wearing a pair of the kind of shorts girls wear to bed, shorts that are so damn short the cleft of her ass is peeking out. I wait until she’s closed her bedroom door behind her before I turn back to the drunk dickhead.
“Who the fuck are you?” I growl.
“Whoa,” the prick laughs, spilling beer as he raises his hands like I’ve got a gun on him. “I’m Trevor, pal. Who are you? I ain’t never seen you around The Pines before—”
“I’m new. I’m filling in for Mr. Malone while he’s gone. Just think of me as him while he’s away.”
“Ah, so you’re the new cockblock, eh—?”
A surge of anger rises in me like a rocket going off. I lunge forward and snatch him by his raggedy tank top and pull him to me. He stinks like an old wet rag that’s been used to clean up the mess from last night’s rager.
“Listen to me, you little shit,” I snarl, baring my teeth at him. “I hear you speak like that again about Becca and I’ll break your face. You understand me?”
“J-Jesus—” he stammers.
“I’m going to say this once.” I don’t need to be told the whole story to know that this guy has been hassling Becca for a while now, and that’s coming to an end tonight. “I’m here now. Things are changing. I see you around her again, and you will regret it. Nod if you understand.”
Trevor opens his mouth to speak, but I raise a finger in his face.
“I said nod if you understand me.”
He stops, focuses his drunk eyes on me, then slowly nods.
“Good,” I reply. “Now get out of here and don’t come back.”
Luckily for him, Trevor understands, and although it takes him a few seconds, he eventually turns around and walks away, stumbling over himself as he goes. I watch until he’s gone, breathing heavily, trying to comprehend the emotions flooding through me.
Never in my life have I felt such possessiveness before, especially over a girl I just met. I’ve barely been in Becca’s presence for more than a few minutes, and it’s like she means more to me than anything in the world. Just the thought of that scumbag upsetting her, let alone putting his hands on her, had me on the edge of complete, uncontrollable fury.
Even now, standing with my back to the trailer, it’s like I can feel her presence behind me like a radiating treasure, something of extreme value that must be protected at all costs. And this goes way beyond my friendship with her father; this is something happening deep in the pit of my soul.
“Fuck,” I curse at myself as I go back inside.
“Is he gone?” Becca’s voice to my left causes me to turn. I see her timidly poking her head out from her room.
“Yes.” I nod. “Go to bed.”
Before she can continue the conversation, I turn and go back to my room and close the door behind me. I turn off the light and lie in the darkness for a while as I calm down. When I glance at my phone, I see the time: 12:45 a.m.
Christ, she’s legal now.
I could walk right down there to her room, strip those tiny shorts off her body, expose her bare beneath me, and have my way with her. But I don’t. I close my eyes, take out my cock, and stroke myself to climax, thinking terrible, filthy thoughts I should never be thinking about my best friend’s daughter.
But when it’s all over, and I’m cleaning myself up, that post-nut clarity and guilt that a guy normally gets…well, it just isn’t there. I’m not thinking about how I should never have fantasized about Becca, how I should clean up my act and find someone my own age, or how terrible I am for finding her sexy in the first place – I’m actually wishing she was here in my room so I could wrap her in my arms and fall asleep with her.