Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
I laugh, which earns me a sharp glare from Zeph. “How did you know? I thought we were being pretty discreet.”
“Discreet?” he questions with a loud scoff before shaking his head again. “It was like a little puzzle, and I didn’t see the pieces at first, but the moment I did, it was kinda impossible not to see.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My dad’s had a lot of nights out, and I know he’s no saint. I know where the fuck he’s been going, and I wouldn’t put it past you to visit a place like that either. But the nights he’s been gone, you’ve mysteriously been busy too.”
“Oh, you caught on to that, huh?”
“I’m not as blind as you think I am,” he mutters.
I choke back a laugh, remembering the very moment I was riding him on the couch just downstairs while his father stood behind the couch and finished me off. Zeph was more than just blind then, but sure, I’ll give him this one if it’s that important to him.
“Fair point. What else?”
“When you’re here with me, whether we’re screwing around or just chilling, you always seem to be watching the door as though you’re waiting for someone to walk through it, and here, it’s only me and my dad, so it really narrows down the options.”
I grin up at him. “You don’t know. I could have been staring wistfully at the door, wishing I was standing on the other side of it, exploring the big, wide world out there.”
Zeph scoffs. “If you’re gonna lie about it, the least you could do is come up with something decent.”
“So, that’s it, huh? I was busy a few nights this week and occasionally turned my gaze toward the door, and you came to the conclusion that I was screwing your dad?”
He rolls his eyes. “I mean, there was that time when you were laid out on the dining table and he touched you. You didn’t even flinch. You were ready for it as though you already knew what to expect. Any other woman would have been too shocked to have even focused on the pleasure, but not you, Tilly Bardot. You gave it away right there.”
“Wow. And here I thought you were going to say it was when I was giving you both head under the table, and—”
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?” he bellows, his jaw slackening as he gapes at me in horror. “You did—fuck.”
Zeph whips back around, clutching the railing as he stares down at the foyer below.
“Shit. My bad,” I say, sucking in a breath through my teeth and cringing. “I figured you’d put that one together. I mean, it’s not as though I was particularly discreet about it, and your dad, he’s huge. I mean, my whole head was bobbing—”
“A MINUTE,” he says, holding that damn finger up and silencing me. “I NEED A FUCKING MINUTE.”
I choke back a laugh and stand silently beside him, giving him the minute he needs until he’s finally able to turn back around, taking on the same stance he’d just been in a moment before.
“So, are you guys, like . . . together or something?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s only physical. Just sex,” I tell him. “You don’t need to worry about me becoming your new step-mommy. Though, that would have made for an intriguing dynamic, don’t you think? It’s not every day you get to say that you fucked your new mommy before your daddy did.”
His face scrunches in disgust. “Don’t. Don’t call him that.”
“What? Daddy?” I tease. “But I like it, especially when he bends me over and—”
“I swear to God, Tilly. If you don’t shut up, I really will jump.”
I suck in an appalled gasp, my hand flying to my chest as I feign outrage. “Now, what kind of way is that to treat your new step-mom? Straight to your room without your supper, young man. Just you wait until your father gets home.”
“Nope!” Zeph pushes away from the railing and strides back into the den, clutching the sides of his head as though he could somehow squish the memories right out of his brain. “NOPE!”
I laugh and traipse after him, flopping straight back down on the couch beside him and crossing my legs under me as I watch him. As the seconds pass, a heaviness begins to settle over me, and I reach for his hand, relieved when he allows me to take it. “You don’t hate me, do you?” I question, not having realized just how much I feared asking him this until this very moment. “I know we don’t know each other all that well, but you didn’t strike me as the possessive or jealous type, plus we weren’t exclusive, so I figured it’s not as though I was technically doing anything wrong. But like, obviously it’s your dad, so I know there were some boundaries crossed, and I’m really sorry for that and—shit. I’m rambling.”