Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
His head came up, and he nodded once. “Yeah,” he croaked. “I think I can manage to return the favor.”
Then he surged upward, hooked an arm behind my hips, and then threw me up on his shoulder.
Moments later he kicked off his boots, making me squeal in fear as I tipped a little too far forward for comfort, and gasped. “Rafe, seriously, put me down!”
He grunted as he kicked off his jeans, ignoring the thud of the things he still had in his pockets.
I giggled as he did and held on for the ride as he walked quickly into his room.
***
Rafe
She was so fuckin’ beautiful that sometimes it was hard for me to believe that she wanted me.
Who the hell was I?
I was a nobody.
I was Raphael Luis, the piece of shit son of a man who had ruined many lives and then left me to deal with the repercussions.
A nobody.
“Rafe?”
I followed her down on the bed and went face to face with her.
“Every single fucking day—until I met you—was a struggle.”
Janie’s mouth fell open.
“The day you told me that you were sorry I had one ball was the day that I realized that maybe life wasn’t as bad as I’d made it out to be,” I told her. “I was mad at the world. Pissed off that I couldn’t do what I wanted to do—which was find Layton Trammel and shove my fist down his throat in order to rip out his lungs. Then you came along, with your sarcastic mouth, and changed my life.”
Janie drew in a breath.
“Not a day went by that I didn’t hate what my dad had forced me to become,” I continued. “Then there you were, torturing me through the years.”
“I didn’t torture you!” she cried out, poking me with one small finger directly in the middle of my breastbone.
I grinned. “You didn’t try to seduce me with those tight jeans, and shorter than sin skirts when you were jailbait?”
“Hoo haha.”
My brows rose in confusion. “Hoo haha?”
“Finding Nemo, the movie. Though, the saying was ‘Shark Bait. Hoo haha.”
I snorted. “And this is another example of how we’re so far apart in age. You’ve watched Finding Nemo. When I was a kid, we watched Saturday morning cartoons.”
Janie’s lips tipped up at the corners.
“If I was sixteen again, then this age gap between us would matter,” she murmured, reaching up to press a kiss on my jaw. “But since I’m well over the legal age of consent, which in Texas is seventeen, you have nothing to worry about. So, you’ll die before me. Big deal.”
I tickled her, causing her to screech and try to pull away.
I didn’t let her get so much as an inch away from me as I sat us both back up, her in my lap.
The new move pressed her ass right against my hard again cock.
She wiggled her butt and smiled unrepentantly when I squeezed the fleshy part of her ass tightly, saying without words that she needed to stop. Or else.
Janie pursed her lips but tried to remain as still as possible.
“It’s not a big deal.”
Her brows went up.
“Because we won’t make it a big deal,” I amended. “What we have is what we want. And nobody and nothing is going to change that. That’s my promise to you.”
“So, when someone calls you a cradle robber,” she said, running the tip of one finger down my bearded jaw. “That’s not going to piss you off?”
I grinned. “No.”
“And when they ask if you’re my daddy?”
The twinkle in her eyes would’ve made me laugh had I not thought she was partially serious with the question.
“Then I’ll tell them only in the bedroom,” I countered.
She choked and slapped me on the chest. “That’s going to get us kicked out of wherever the hell we happen to be at the time.”
I shook my head. “I think you’ll be surprised with how tolerant everyone is of a relationship like the one we have.”
“Rafe?” she whispered, leaning even closer to me.
The shift in her weight had her putting more pressure on my dick, and I pushed her off of me before she could wiggle that sumptuous ass any more against me.
“Can I?” she asked, scrambling up onto her knees the moment her ass met the mattress.
“Can you what?” I asked warily.
“Can I touch your ball. The one that is fake?”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to ask.”
“I was thinking that was the case, but I didn’t want to touch it in case it hurt, or in case you were all sensitive about it,” she explained.
I leaned back on the bed and moved my hands up to my head and got comfortable.
Once she saw I was letting her do whatever she wanted, she scrambled up between my legs and poked one.
“Is it this one, or the other one?”