Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
That does it, redirecting blood from my dick to my whole body in a whoosh of anger, and my cock deflates. A little.
I look pointedly toward the living room, and Samantha follows my gaze.
“Oh, shit!” she exclaims when she sees Kayla. She tries to back up into the bedroom, but I clear my throat.
Samantha’s eyes jump to mine, and ever so subtly, I shake my head, telling her she’s not going anywhere. I want her to stand there, my cum dripping from her pussy, a plug in her ass, and my name still on her lips as she tries to hold a polite conversation. She’s turned me into such a ridiculous monster, but I wouldn’t change it. Not now, when I know the rewards that’ll come from it later.
Sassily, she plants her feet. Challenge accepted.
Secretly, I can’t wait to see who pays for this later . . . me or her?
“Good to see you again, Kayla,” Samantha says with an easy smile.
“Uh, you too. Samantha, right? Luna’s friend? I think we met at the wedding?” Kayla’s looking around for clues like she’s Steve with a handy-dandy notebook, but what she’s walked in on is abundantly clear. When her eyes jump to mine, peering deep, I can almost hear her in my head asking, “Are you for real, man?”
I don’t date. I don’t bring women home. My family knows me for one thing, my single-minded focus on the club. Yet, here’s proof that something completely different is happening. With my sister-in-law’s best friend. There are so many things wrong in that thought, Kayla probably doesn’t know where to start with giving me shit.
“Yeah,” Samantha answers and then holds up her hands. “Guilty on all charges.”
The dress shirt lifts, exposing higher on her thighs and dangerously close to even more, and jealously, I don’t want Samantha flashing her pussy to anyone but me. “Kayla, could you say what you came to say and kindly get the hell out?” I say, taking the reins of this awkward moment.
But I’ve played my hand, and Kayla knows it. Her eyes glint, and I can tell she’s considering doing the exact opposite. That’s how Kayla rolls, chafing against what anyone tells her and doing whatever she wants.
“I can go . . .” Samantha offers, more to let us speak privately than to hide away.
But Kayla’s three steps ahead already, and though she does what I asked, it’s with one of those Kayla-special twists. “Oh, it’s fine, Samantha. I was telling Chance that Aunt Viv’s coming to dinner this weekend. All hands on deck and expected to be there, with no excuses accepted,” she says staccato, like a family dinner is a military function. “Oh!” Kayla blurts as though she just had this completely new, novel idea right this instant, which she most certainly did not. “Samantha, you should come to dinner too. Luna will be there.”
“I don’t think—” I start to decline on Samantha’s behalf, not wanting her to be subjected to the horror show that is my family, especially Aunt Viv. But when I look at her, Samantha’s smile has all but crumbled, and I realize she thinks I don’t want her there for selfish reasons. She has no reason to consider that I’m saving her, not hiding her. “I mean, yeah, of course. We’ll be there.”
Kayla watches the drama play out between Samantha and me with rapt interest, but after a moment of calculation, she snaps out of it. “Guess I’d better get going. My work here is done,” she says breezily.
"I don’t have to go. It’s no big deal,” Samantha states again, her voice utterly and eerily calm.
That makes the fifth opportunity she’s given me to not take her tonight, and I refuse, the same way I have the other four times.
“I’ve never been less sure, but not of you.” I sigh, squeezing the steering wheel as we drive down the highway. “In a way, I’m ashamed of my family, and I’m taking you up-close for a front-row seat of the Harringtons at their worst. The big deal, as you called it, is that you’re going to see me differently after this.”
She drops her voice, whispering sarcastically, “Hey, Chance, I already thought you were a rich-boy asshole.” When I laugh a little, she smiles triumphantly and continues in her usual voice. “You’ve proven to be more than that, so their treating you some sort of way isn’t going to make me suddenly figure out that you’re a big shot. The good news is, I don’t care. Tonight, I’m here to support you, not infiltrate ‘The Family’.”
She makes it sound like we’re royals, and I guess to some people, we might as well be. There have been plenty of women who have approached my brothers and me, hungry for a meal ticket to wealth.
Ironically, Samantha isn’t interested in easy money but instead wants to earn her own, and the only thing I can hold over her is the sex, which while amazing, is only a small part of what I enjoy about her. Our time together has become much more meaningful than that, but I’m careful to not let on because, money or not, dick or not, I think she’d bail on me in a second if she thought I had real feelings for her.