Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
She steps out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her as she walks over to the bed where I’m sitting. She doesn’t hesitate to push the book I was reading onto the bed and climb onto my lap.
“Scott was my father’s associate,” she tells me hesitantly. I can tell how nervous she is because her eyes go down to my stomach, and she runs her fingers along the trail of hair I have there. “I was given to him as a gift.” My chest constricts at those words, but I remain silent, and her eyes lift to find mine. “I don’t want Scott. I detest Scott, but I have to be nice to him.”
None of those words make any sense.
“How old were you?” I ask, even though I know I won’t like her answer.
She bites her bottom lip. “Sixteen.”
“And you…”
“Yes, we had sex. He was a little younger than my father.”
“Did he rape you?” I press, my hands clenched at my sides. Rape is a no-go for me. I fucking hate rapists.
“No, but it was definitely close to that. The older I get, the more I see it for the manipulation that it was.” She moves and lays her head on my chest, her warm body covering mine, the towel and my boxer briefs are all that separate us.
She stays quiet and listens to my heartbeat for a few minutes before she speaks again, “My father did that… passed me around. But he did it in a smooth way, so I didn’t realize what he was doing until it was too late.”
“Is that why you killed him?” If she hadn’t already done the deed, I certainly would have for this. The man deserved everything he got and more—death is too easy a punishment for someone like him.
“Partly, but that’s not the main reason.” Her head moves, and her chin comes to rest on my chest. “It’s why I didn’t want to marry you. Because even in death, he still gets to choose who he passes me to.”
Fuck.
I get it now.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, my tone softening. And I am sorry that her life is still being controlled by a dead man.
“I wanted to fight you at every turn, but then I came to realize that you aren’t like the others. Even when you were angry, you still cared. Believe me when I say they didn’t.” She turns her head back, so her cheek is against my chest again. “When I moved to America, I met a girl, and she kissed me one night when we were out. And I liked it, a lot. I could take control of the situation with women. No woman can boss me around. Not like a man can.”
“You don’t have to live with me if you don’t want to,” I say, realizing I manipulated and bossed her into doing exactly that.
“It’s fine, Joey. I like your place.” I reach for her hair, and my fingers stroke through it, feeling her relax against me.
“I like both men and woman. I didn’t choose Becca, she just happened to be there at that right time. I was in a mood, she was available.”
“You want her, though.” I know she does.
“I want you too.” Her eyes find mine, and her chin rests on my stomach. “I find you very attractive, Joey Rossi, but I also find her attractive.” I take a deep breath, trying to ignore my resentment from the second half of her admission and focus purely on what she said first.
That she wants me.
Isn’t this what I’ve been waiting for?
“I don’t approve of you being with her while you’re married to me.” That will not happen. She is mine, and no one else gets to have her while she’s with me. I’ll never have a sidepiece, and neither will she. Does that make me as bad as her father? Am I a manipulating, controlling bastard? A part of me doesn’t even care if I am because the simple fact is, she is mine.
“I wouldn’t do that to you. I mean, I would if you were a cheating asshole. Why would I stay faithful? That’s just stupid. And I’m sorry, but I am not like your mother.”
She’s talking about how my father cheated on my mother throughout their marriage, and my mother stayed with him and remained faithful until the day he died. He didn’t deserve her, or her loyalty, he deserved nothing from her.
“I’m glad you aren’t like her,” I say, smiling, and she smiles back. A real one. Bright and content, making her glow.
“I like her. Do you think she likes me?” Adora asks, and the look in her eyes is the sweetest she’s given me. That’s all I want to see now. “My mother ran off when I was young, and my sister’s mother hated me. All I had was my father, who saw me as a possession because I wasn’t a boy.”