Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
"Remember what I told you about women?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"Your mother fucked me up years ago and continues to torment me, making me pay for fucking weddings whenever she decides I’m good enough," he grunts. "Fucking bitches, all of ’em. Get in your head and play fucking games. They use their pussy to trap you." He turns me to face him and taps my chest. I catch a glimpse of Drew over his shoulder, her eyes popping wide when she sees the wall of my old man's back. Her dad's room is opposite mine. Rules are she stays in the room while they party, but Drew's a rule-breaker. It's that wild streak that makes her so fun to be around. She slowly closes the door, only leaving it open a sliver to watch us through the gap.
"Pussy is sweet, but you can get it free. You don't need to sell your fucking soul for it. Find a bitch who keeps your mind calm, your belly full, and…?" he urges.
"Your balls empty," I mutter, knowing Drew’s got to be laughing her ass off at me behind that door.
"Save your love for the road. If you give it to a woman, she’ll use it to control you—even after she's left you. Look at your mother."
I want to ask why the hell he's bothering to marry her again then, but I asked him that the second time, and he said it's cheaper to be married to her than not. Whatever the hell that means.
"Now, I said I had a gift for you." He grins, which looks weird on him. He never smiles. He's a six-foot-six, scar-battered, bearded monster.
He raps his knuckles on my bedroom door, which was empty when I left it a couple hours ago. Two seconds later, the handle drops, and the door opens.
What the fuck?
A young girl is standing there, finger in her mouth, tits on display, and black lace panties. "Don't tell your mother. Have fun." He shoves me inside and saunters off the way we came. My heart races a mile a minute. This naked chick is in my room looking at me like I'm her lunch after she skipped breakfast.
I don't look like a teen. I know that. Like my old man, I am tall and broad. Unlike him, I have a pretty face. Girls like me, and although I've had plenty of offers, I'd never done anything with any of them. I had urges like most teenage boys, I just took care of them with my right hand. People assumed Drew was my girl, and neither of us discouraged that. If I did anything with someone else, I feel like we'd lose that bubble I like being in. No one asks Drew out because of that, and it makes me happy—real fucking happy.
I turn around, my eyes landing on Drew's. She opened the door farther and is looking up at me through her lashes. She blinks rapidly and bites her lip, waiting to see what I'm going to do.
Fuck, what am I going to do?
She shrugs her shoulder and rolls her eyes like it's a no brainer. The woman wraps her arms across my shoulder and whispers, "You want me to make you a man, baby?"
I laugh, ducking my head and giving it a shake. Fucking her won't make me a man; it will make me a fool. Of course I know what to do. No one comes close to Drew. It's always been Drew.
"Nah. Feel free to stick around in here for a bit and tell my old man you did a good job, though," I tell her, walking out and closing the door, grinning when Drew opens hers wide, letting me inside.
The moment she closes the door and turns around, I back her up against it and crash my lips down on hers, tasting the cherry lemonade she's been drinking. We're clumsy and nervous, our movements inexperienced and messy, but it's us, and that's all that fucking matters...
Six
Drew
Seventeen years old
The ground trembles beneath me. Goosebumps spout across my skin. “Why did we have to ride here?” I sulk, shivering as he comes to a stop. Pulling off my helmet, a matte black dome with crusted jewels in the shape of a skull. A gift from Alec, which he designed himself and gave to me for my birthday. My dad finally realized there was no way he could keep me off the back of Alec’s bike or out of his room.
I shake out my bush people call hair. I cut it short, and it still drives me freaking crazy. Alec loves it, though…
“Baby, you know I like to show you off on the back of my bike.” Alec groans, rubbing my thighs to warm me up. He kicks the stand out and climbs off, then helps me do the same. I should have worn more than these jean shorts, but the weather was nice when I left the house this morning. Now, it’s dark and freezing.