Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Not until I had someone who mattered to me.
All my thoughts are overshadowed like a total eclipse by Daphne, as she takes a bite of her chicken. How the fuck is it possible that I am jealous of her fork? The way her lips encircle it. The thought of her tongue on the tines.
Under the lace tablecloth, my balls won’t stop pulsing.
And now there’s only one question in my head: Will she show up tonight?
If she doesn’t, then what? What happens when I lose control? What’ll this lovely little family say when I break into their house and take her in her own bed? How will that fucking conversation go over breakfast tomorrow morning?
By the end of dinner, I’m ready to jump out of my skin. My cock hurts so fucking bad. I help clear, but Joan refuses to let me do the dishes, which is kind of a fucking problem because I was planning on hiding my nonstop erection against the sink.
“I was gonna take Dutch into town. Have a beer at Van Dyke Racers. It’s NASCAR tonight…” James gives me a wink.
“No beer for me, man.” I shake my head. “I’m not screwing up my parole.”
“Okay, well, I’ll have a beer for us both,” James says with a grin, eyeing the front door and jingling his keys in his palm.
“Oh no you don’t.” Joan turns from the sink where she and Daphne are loading the dishwasher, wiggling her finger at James.
I silence an impatient groan. All this needling each other, all this good-natured teasing, it’s fine. I love it. But I’ve had enough. All I want is for midnight to come so I can strip that butter-yellow dress off her tits and suck her nipples into my mouth.
“Daphne, you go with them. You drive. Keep them from getting into trouble.” Joan plucks the keys out of James’ palm and hands them to Daphne.
Now James takes the keys away from Joan and hands them to me. “Dutch can drive.” James gives me a hopeful look. “Having my sister along isn’t exactly what I had in mind. If you catch my drift.”
“Man,” I say, trying to keep my voice low and discreet. “I don’t have a license. I just got out.”
James rolls his eyes. “This shitty parole system, am I right?” he says.
A-fucking-men to that.
But I stay quiet about all of it while they sort it out for themselves. Daphne gives me a look, but Joan points her finger at us both.
“You want me to go get your father? Tell him you’re going to go drink beer then drive home? You’re a slow learner sometimes, James Foster.”
“I’ll go, Mom.” Daphne bends over, putting the last of the plates in the dishwasher, and her ripe, round ass makes my balls twitch. “I’ll be the chaperone.”
She nibbles into her bottom lip as James grunts but heads towards the door. Daphne eases past me, giving me a quick wink and I inhale her sweet, peaches and cream scent.
Waiting for my release date was bad. But waiting for midnight is worse.
Way fucking worse.
CHAPTER 5
Dutch
“You okay?” James smacks my shoulder in brotherly camaraderie. There’s NASCAR on all the TVs and everyone’s mesmerized. But the only thing that’s mesmerizing me are the way Daphne’s lashes flutter with every blink.
“Yeah. Just. Crowds. Not used to it yet.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come.” Daphne gives me a concerned look. I hate that she’s worried about me. I can see it in the furrow of her brow, the way she’s darting her eyes from me to anyone that comes close.
The need she’s ignited inside me is fierce. As much as she seems to be looking out for me, I’m giving hell-fire looks to any guy that’s even glancing her way. If any of these motherfuckers so much as buy her a drink, I’ll be back in jail for manslaughter.
I’ve never felt this sort of protective force before. It’s like a switch has been flipped inside me. I don’t ever want to be away from her again.
I can’t be away from her again.
“It’s fine.” James nods, looking over the crowd. “Hey!” He holds up a hand to someone standing against the far wall. “I’ll be back. It’s Jerry Maples. I’ve been talking to him about expanding the garage into custom hot rod and bike work. He has a shop over in Eastwood doing really well.” He stands and snakes through the sea of people in the small, packed bar, filled with the tinny sounds of roaring engines coming through flat-screened TVs.
“I don’t give a fuck who Jerry Maples is,” I tell Daphne. “I’m just glad I get you all to myself. Finally.”
She smiles at me, eyes sparkling. Her dark hair shines in the dim lights, curls loose around her face, and the memory of how it felt in my hand earlier makes me ache deep down. That same feeling of wanting to kiss her at the dining room table comes back. I need to let the whole world know she belongs to me.