Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Fuck it,” comes from Trace. One minute, I’m standing in front of him, lost in the way he looks, wondering how he would feel against me. The next I’m literally pulled inside the room by Trace, the door slams behind me by the hand that isn’t wrapped around my waist.
“Trace,” I pant. As sure as my footsteps were to follow him, they have no problem going backwards. Trace cages me in as my back meets the wood door. We’re in the bathroom, the fog swirling around us from his shower, his dark hair wet, the only thing he has on the towel, and his scent is permeating the air.
“One taste.” His hand leaves my wrist and cups my cheek, thumb pulling on my lower lip. A whimper escapes me. “Shit, that mouth. I need it, and I’m gonna take it,” Trace states. I must nod my head in the answer he was waiting for, because his other hand trails my outer thigh. The short flowy skirt is no match for his work-roughened hands, skating a path higher and higher. His head dips down, caging me in even more with his body, and when my eyes close, Trace makes his move. The house is quiet, and with Wes probably steps away from returning inside, I’m at war with myself. I’m not this person. This isn’t who I am. Those are my last thoughts before Trace’s mouth meets mine. I’m unprepared for the feeling as one sweep of his lips does me in. The thought of kissing my boyfriend’s father and how wrong it is flies out the window. In its place is this feeling of amazement. He nips at my lower lip, then licks it to soothe the slight pain. He pushes deeper, his tongue slides inside, and he kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. My own hands knead his sides, and I can feel his thick length pressed against my lower abdomen. Trace’s fingers tighten along my upper thigh, his thumb sweeping dangerously close to the edge of my lace panties, dragging the digit lower in doing so. My body weakens. I’m thankful for the door and Trace’s firm body holding me in place as a mini shock wave bolts through me, hard and fast. The orgasm comes in record speed, yet he’s barely touched me.
“Yo, Dad, Jo!” All good things must come to an end, and Wes’s voice breaks apart our kiss so fast, I’m no longer holding on to Trace but instead pushing him away.
“Oh my God, what have we done? This was a mistake.” I scramble to get away from Wes’s father. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to look at him again and not think of this very moment or the fact that I’ve done the one thing I promised myself I’d never do. I cheated on my boyfriend and with his father no less.
1
JOSIE
Present Day
“Are you sure we can’t stay and help?” my mother asks for the second time in less than ten minutes.
Today was the day the moving truck appeared after a long few weeks of going back and forth on when I’d finally close on my first massive purchase, minus a car and the computers I need for my digital graphic business. One where I design websites, create online stores, then there’s a side hustle where I help companies revamp their brand with new logos. . This investment was just that; it’s going to be a labor of love for a very long time.
“I’m sure. You and Dad have done so much. I’m going to pick up some groceries, take a hot shower, and collapse. Everything that wasn’t unpacked can wait until tomorrow.” Dad wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in to kiss the crown of my head.
“Proud of you, bug.” My new home is exactly that—my home. I’ve got the bank note to prove it and a slew of work ahead of me to make it the way I want. Both of my parents are realtors, yet helping me find the bank-owned previously foreclosed home was not an easy task. They helped me in more ways than money ever could. I didn’t take the path they did. Even when Mom tried to sway me into the family business, it wasn’t for me. I went to college, busted my ass, then built my own company from the ground up, working for pennies on the dollar until I could charge what I finally felt was my worth. It wasn’t what they saw for their daughter, but the twinkle in Dad’s eye and the high-five Mom gives me each time I land a new client or take on a new project is all the support I need.
“Thanks, Pops. You better take Mom and head home before she puts us all to work. The woman is like the roadrunner.” Between my dad and his friend who’s a home inspector, the house may not be a lot to look at right now, but the bones are rock solid, plus it has a new roof, windows, plumbing, and air conditioner. The rest is cosmetic. The last owner who took this place on, either went belly up with all the work or something else happened—divorce or a family member passing, whatever it was, I’m not sure. All I know is that each room needs a coat of paint, minus my office and bedroom. Those two rooms are what we worked on for the past forty-eight hours. Then came the moving in. Totally worth it to be out of my too small apartment; plus, the lease was up, and the landlord would not give me the option to switch to month-to-month while I renovated my house. The rest of this place will come together over time, fixtures replaced, doorknobs that look like they’ve been chewed up and spit out. Heck even some doors needs to replaced, it’ll take time and that’s more than okay with me.