Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
She leans forward, and her lips gently trace mine. She tastes of brandy and sugar, and I reach up and push the fingers of one hand into her hair. Our lips come together in a forceful kiss that makes pure, unadulterated lust flood into me. God, I want this woman. Even if she is a selfish bitch.
“Fuck me with your big cock, Mr. Rhodes,” she moans into my mouth.
Roughly, I take hold of her hips and impale her hot, tight pussy on my cock. All the way down my thick shaft. She cries out with pain and pleasure. Then she starts bouncing on my dick. It feels divine, and I never want it to end. I thrust with her, pulling her down by her hips so my full length pushes inside of her.
Eyes closed, I hurtle towards my climax when a beeping noise startles me. My eyes fly open, and I find myself lying in bed, alone, in the dark. My cock is so hard it’s aching. The memory of the dream wraps around me. It wasn’t fucking real. I shake my head with disgust.
“Fucking hell,” I whisper. “Of all people. Ugh.”
I lay there for a moment. If I’m honest, quite disappointed with myself. Joseph’s daughter is the last person I want to be lusting after. Sure, she’s smoking hot, but she’s also an opportunistic little gold digger, and I can’t stand to be in the same room as her, despite my cock having other ideas.
I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep. I mean, if the cunning minx wants to visit me in my dreams again, then who am I to argue? It’s not like it’s real so it’s all good.
I drift off thinking of the feel of her pussy around my cock. It really did feel so damned real. But it seems my subconscious has other ideas for me though, because when I do fall back into sleep, Joseph’s daughter is nowhere to be seen. Instead, I find myself running through a seemingly endless forest, being chased by a pack of wolves. All I have to do is reach the road and I will be safe, but each time I see it in the distance, another row of trees materializes in front of me.
Chapter
Six
JO
The morning of my father’s funeral arrives wrapped in a kind of heavy silence. It’s clear to see that being rich has its advantages in death just as much as in life. There’s no waiting for an opening with the funeral director or the church. He died two days ago, and already his funeral is happening, and I have no doubt it will be a grand affair.
I wake up before my alarm goes off, disoriented for a moment by the vastness of my bedroom, the high ceiling. I forgot to shut the heavy drapes and unfamiliar light filters through tall windows dressed in gauzy curtains that soften the sun into something pale and almost fragile. For half a second, I forget where I am. Then it all rushes back.
I lie still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, my chest tight as though someone has set a weight directly over my sternum. It feels performative to be sad. I feel like being seen to be visibly upset would make people think it is forced or artificial. I mean, I get it. I never knew him. I never heard his laugh. I never sat across a table from him. I never had him tuck me in at night or tell me off for missing curfew. How can I be sad to lose someone I never even had?
And yet in a strange sort of way, I am sad. Or I’m feeling something that is similar to sadness, at least. There is a hollow place inside of me this morning that wasn’t there last week. A space that feels like it was carved out to be filled by a father’s love and now will be forever empty. I press the palms of my hands to my eyes. They feel hot and dry. I haven’t cried at all since getting here.
I roll onto my side and reach for my cell phone. I turn the alarm off, sit up, and then I check my notifications. I am expecting some form of contact about the plan for today, but there is no missed call from Gavin. I answer some texts from the girls, then decide to get up and get ready. I don’t want the call to come to say it’s time to leave and for me to not be ready.
I go through to the bathroom where I have a wonderful shower with the water pressure up high, and the water blasting my skin almost hard enough to hurt. When I get out, my skin is pink and glowing from the pummeling it’s taken. I brush my teeth, go back into the bedroom, and take the simple black shift dress off the hanger. I kept it understated on purpose, choosing something with a fairly high neckline, elbow length sleeves, and a knee-length skirt. It’s fitted but not attention-seeking. It feels appropriate for the occasion but still like something that can blend into the background. Slipping into it and a pair of black heels, I sit down to apply my makeup and dry my hair. I’m curling the last few bits when a soft knock comes at the door.