Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
When I come back out with my bag, Porter is hanging up a phone call. "I called the police and let them know what happened. They'll increase patrols around here so when Renae comes home, she'll be safe."
I nod, and Porter takes the suitcase from my hands and leads the way out front. He packs my suitcase in the bed of his truck, and we pull out of Renae's driveway and take off down the street.
It's about a thirty-minute drive to the other side of town where Porter lives, and the roads are mostly empty. The tension between us is palpable. Every time he looks over at me and our eyes meet, my breath hitches. I send a text out to Renae telling her what happened, but she's either busy with her yoga instructor or asleep already. At least she'll know where I am when she comes home in the morning.
The lights are on in the house when we pull up, and Porter parks his truck in the driveway. "We're here. I hope you like it."
I haven't even looked at the house. All I can see is the man next to me. "I'm sure it's perfect."
It's dark as Porter comes to open my door and grab my bag, but the outside lights are bright enough that I can see his home. It's beautiful—a craftsman bungalow with a wide front porch and dormer windows.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you inside."
Porter unlocks the door, and the entryway of his home is gorgeous. The floors are dark, rich hardwood, and there's a white shiplap wall leading into the hallway. Porter leads me down the hall to the second door on the left and gestures for me to walk in.
"Welcome home, Bailey."
I step inside and gasp. "Porter, this is gorgeous!"
"I thought you'd like it." He smiles. "This is the guest suite. You can stay here as long as you need to."
The room is furnished in cream and blue colors. There’s a king-size bed, a dresser, a desk, a mirror, and a full bathroom, with a huge bay window overlooking the backyard.
"There's a pool back there," Porter points out, "and a hot tub. And beyond that are the woods."
"This is the nicest place I've ever stayed."
"I hope you'll be happy here." Porter sets my suitcase down. "Bailey..."
I turn, and his dark eyes are searching my face.
"When you called me tonight, it felt like a sign. Like you were telling me that you needed me. That you trusted me to take care of you and keep you safe." His hand reaches out and cups my cheek. "Do you trust me, Bailey?"
"Yes," I answer instantly, and I mean it. Porter has never given me any reason not to.
"And do you need me, Bailey?"
"Yes."
Porter smiles and closes the distance between us. His lips press against mine, and I'm not sure who makes the first move. Was it him? Or was it me?
All I know is that Porter is kissing me, and I'm kissing him back.
His strong arms wrap around my waist, and he pulls me tight against his body. I whimper, and Porter groans, pushing his tongue into my mouth. His kiss is possessive and passionate and sends my thoughts spiraling.
My knees are weak, and when he pulls back, my legs are shaking. Porter's eyes are burning with lust, and his hand comes up to caress my cheek. "I want to fuck you so bad, Bailey, but it wouldn't be right after what you've been through tonight." There's a tension in his neck and jaw that tells me how difficult it is for him to say this. "I want you to get some rest because tomorrow is going to be a whole different story."
I swallow the disappointment and nod. "I guess you're right."
His lids lower. "You'd let me, wouldn't you? You'd let me fuck you right here and now?"
I nod, blushing. My body aches with desire, and Porter's lips curve up. I melt into his body when he pulls me in again, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as my knees go weak. Porter breaks the kiss, burying his hand in my hair and holding my face up to look at his.
"I will give you everything you want, baby. Everything. But you're going to have to play by my rules, understand?"
"Yes," I pant. "Anything."
"You're going to call me Daddy."
Daddy! That's so...dirty. So taboo. But a thrill runs through my belly when Porter says the word.
"Yes, Daddy," I breathe, and his grip on my hair tightens. Not painful, but demanding.
"That's my good girl." His voice is a deep, seductive rumble. "Such a sweet little girl for Daddy, aren't you?"
"Yes, Daddy."
A smile spreads across his face and Porter pulls back, cupping my cheeks in his hands. "Tomorrow, Bailey. Tomorrow."
I pout, and Porter shakes his head. "No whining, baby. You heard what I said. Tomorrow."