Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I loved you once, Timmy. You could have had a good life. You could have had a beautiful life,” I tell him sadly. It is sad, horrifically sad that he will never get the chance to know what love truly is, to hear the laughter of his own children, or to become the doting beloved uncle to his nieces and nephews. We only get one life and his choices destroyed his. He lost his chance. “Instead, you will die alone. Noah and I will live a life full of love and our children will follow in that path long after we’re gone. You wanted to be revered and always remembered. Noah and I will through our children and their children. No one will ever remember you. After today, I’ll never think of you again. No one will.”
“Bi…tch” he breathes the words in a painful gasp that sounds more like a rattle of death coming from his chest. He heard me. That’s enough.
“Goodbye, Timmy,” I tell him, rising and turning away from him. I walk straight to Noah, and let his arms enfold me. Noah is my future. The past—and all of the monsters I had to face—they’re not even a memory now.
It’s over.
“Wait for me outside, Gorgeous. Go with Rebel,” Noah says and I nod my acceptance. Rebel walks me out to Noah’s bike. It takes about ten minutes and Noah comes out. His face is grim, but when he smiles at me, I know that he’s in the same place I’m at now.
Together, we’re ready for the future.
It might not be the life and world others would want or understand, but we do… and to us at least… it’s perfect.
He puts his hand in mine, squeezes it and I squeeze back—vowing to always hold onto Noah, no matter what storms we face.
60
Diesel
I close my eyes letting the hot water pour over me. It’s over. It’s really fucking over. I’ve been dealing with the fear of having Ryan taken away from me for so damn long that this feels a little surreal.
Finally, I can start working on creating the life I’ve always wanted and being with the woman I love. I jerk, turning around as the shower door opens. My fucking heart feels like someone is squeezing the hell out of it, when I see Rory standing there in a pink, satin robe, that falls about mid-thigh. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never get over how fucking beautiful she is.
“Feel like some company?” she asks, softly, undoing the belt on her robe.
“Don’t have any condoms on me, Gorgeous,” I tell her, knowing what she said earlier, but still giving her the choice. I want children with her. I want the world with her, but if all I ever get out of life is Rory and Ryan then I’ll still die a fucking happy man.
“Good,” she whispers, pulling the robe off of her shoulders and letting it slide to the floor, pooling at her feet.
“Christ,” I mumble, my cock standing at attention instantly. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Rory,” I growl.
“So are you,” she whispers, stepping into the shower.
“Men aren’t beautiful, Gorgeous,” I instruct, a smile on my face as I turn her so her back is against my front. I back up slowly, pulling her so that the hot water begins running over her body. I reach up to grab the shower gel she loves, squeezing some out and putting it into my hand. Instantly the smell of vanilla and sweet sugar fills the air.
“What are you doing?” she asks, trying to look over her shoulder.
“Right now?” I laugh at my question, not needing to ask it, but enjoying this—all of this way too much. I step into her, my hard cock brushing against the top of her ass and lower back. Her body trembles and fuck if I don’t like knowing she wants me as much as I want her. “Right now, I’m giving my woman a shower,” I whisper, leaning down to talk into her ear. “After that I’m giving my cock to my woman and fucking her raw.”
“Jesus,” she whispers, her voice quivering with desire.
“Hold your hands up for me, Gorgeous,” I instruct, and when she does, I bring my arms around each side of her and rub down her sides to her hips, letting the soap slicken my path and lather against the beating water. I move to her stomach, loving the little mew of sound she makes as I tease her slowly, making my careful path to her tits. I massage them in my hands, loving the way that Rory leans back into me when I pull on her nipples. Her hands come down to move over mine, not to stop me, but just to hold on.
I like that too.
“You’re killing me, Noah,” she whimpers as I continue torturing her nipples, before finally moving to her back again. Her legs tremble, she doesn’t try to hide how much she wants what I’m giving her, and I fucking love that. I turn us, so she’s facing the tiled wall.