Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Preston: Sorry for bailing. I’ll make it up to you at our next lesson. Until then, I have an assignment for you.
Her response came quickly.
Sydney: You’re giving me homework?
Preston: Yes. You should think about me whenever you jerk off.
I pictured her seated on the side of her bed, staring at the phone in her hand while a blush flashed across her cheeks. Had she put her pink panties back on yet, or was she still bare under her dress? I dropped a hand between my legs and squeezed against the ache in my dick.
Sydney: Will you be doing the same?
Was she kidding?
Preston: You better fucking believe it.
Sydney: Okay. I’ll do your homework.
Preston: Good girl.
Last month, Distinguished Events had acquired enough random shit that we’d had to rent a small storage unit. Up until then, I’d had all the boxes stacked to one side of the spare room my dad was letting me use as an office. But it had gotten out of hand after the Wilkerson wedding.
They’d been indecisive and had money to burn, which was a dangerous combination. It was why my company now owned three hundred gold charging plates. The bride had been obsessed with them, so she’d ponied up the cash, had us take delivery, and the week before the wedding she declared they didn’t fit her vision.
I tried to return them, but the company refused since the window had closed months ago, and the bride didn’t seem to care.
“You can keep them,” she’d said.
They were brand new, nice, and relatively generic. I wasn’t sure if I’d find a use for them with a future client, or if I should try to sell them—but one thing was certain. I was out of space to store them at my house.
I was unloading the last box from the trunk of my car when my phone buzzed with a message.
Sydney: I’m free tonight. The restaurant is closed on Mondays.
I’d texted her today when I arrived at the storage unit and asked about her schedule. It’d been three days since our ‘date,’ and I was more than ready to give her my next lesson.
I probably would have caved and asked to see her sooner, but my weekend had been dominated by the wedding. Plus, Friday and Saturday nights were the busiest for her, too.
Over this summer while she lived with her parents, those nights were the only ones when she didn’t have a curfew, and it was because she usually wasn’t done cleaning up her station at the restaurant until after eleven.
I knew all the details about her parents’ terrible curfews because I’d been talking to her every day. It had started with a simple flirty text from me the morning after our date, asking how she had done with her homework. I hadn’t meant it to turn into anything more, or some big conversation—but it had. She was easy to talk to.
And she wasn’t my girlfriend.
It meant I could say whatever I wanted and not worry about impressing her or if I might come off self-centered. I could just be me. The whole thing was relaxed. Low pressure. Surprisingly effortless.
But if we were getting together tonight, I’d need to put forth some serious effort. My bedroom was a fucking disaster.
I dropped the box on top of the others in the corner of the unit and fired off a text.
Preston: Tonight works for me. Pick you up at 7?
Sydney: See you then!
I began drafting my plan of attack. The first order of business when I got home would be laundry. It’d been an embarrassingly long time since I’d washed my sheets, and if everything went the way I hoped it would tonight, we’d definitely be using my bed.
The image leapt into my mind. Sydney, naked and tangled in my sheets. Her hair was spread out on my pillow and her face was sweaty and flushed because I’d just fucked her brains out—
“Preston.”
I turned to find Colin standing beneath the rolled-up door, backlit by the bright sun outside. He tilted his head as he peered at me, looking like he’d been trying to get my attention for a while.
“Hey, man.” He grinned. “I know I’m late, but you don’t have to ignore me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
Because I was too busy thinking about fucking your little sister.
I knew he was coming to help with the boxes, but I wasn’t prepared to see him. Guilt sat heavy on my shoulders and chest, making me feel like a piece of shit. He’d been there for me, the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, and this was how I repaid him? Doing the one thing he asked me not to?
It was betrayal.
And yet I felt powerless to stop it. I wanted Sydney too much to turn back now.
Fuck. I was a terrible friend.
Colin strolled inside the storage unit and jerked his head toward the stack of new boxes. “You finish already? You should have waited. I would have helped.”