Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“She shole did.” Nana huffed and flopped back in her seat. “He tricked us all though, Nadia. I thought he was a good man way back then, too. I was dumb.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “We didn’t have no online searches, Facebook, and Instafame and stuff like y’all got now to check people out. See if their story is right.”
Instafame? She means Instagram. Nadia kept her laughter to herself. Same but different, really.
“I get it, baby. Nadia, yo daddy was a man of many faces. He only showed us two of ’em. The liar, and the conman.”
“When he found religion, he doubled down on that, selling snake oil. Some things I’ve been through I definitely brought on myself. Other stuff?” She vehemently shook her head. “I ain’t deserve it, Nana. I ain’t deserve none of it!” Another tear fell, and Nana got up, dug in her pocket, and handed her a scrunched-up tissue. Nadia took it and patted at her eyes and nose. The tissue smelled like cinnamon and Cherry blossom perfume. Nana sat back down, quiet, her gaze set on her.
“I’m sorry about all of your pain, Nadia. If I could take it away, I would!” Now her voice trembled, too.
“You can’t take it away, but you can help soothe it. If high blood pressure and certain mental illnesses can be hereditary, Nana, then so can other things. Like this thing we don’t have a name for, but some call it a generational curse.”
“I don’t know what the hell is going on in this family,” Nana shook her head. “Why we end up choosing the wrong men, have men turn crazy over us, and having regrets about life in general.”
“Me, you, Mama, my aunts, my female cousins, just about all of us have never had a successful relationship or marriage, except for you with Samuel. Maybe we’re not the problem, and maybe this isn’t so unusual after all.” Nadia shrugged. “Maybe most families are like ours. But just because something is common, or happens all day and every day doesn’t mean it’s okay. Don’t make it right. People jump off bridges and plummet to their deaths all over the world. That doesn’t mean we too should jump. Especially when someone cares enough to talk us off the edge. That talk, no matter how painful, should always be the truth. The truth is the map. The truth is what sets us free.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Old and New Curses
Grandpa Wilde sat in his opulent office, the scent of his cigar blending with the odor of fresh paint. The corridor was being repainted, and the knocks and bangs of minor repairs made his brain throb. ‘Nights in White Satin,’ by the Moody Blues, serenaded him. He leaned forward, his cigar in hand, and grinned at the photos sprawled all over his desk as Beverly kneeled before him, resting on her knees, her tight, wet perfect mouth wrapped snugly around his throbbing, thick shaft. He flipped to another photo on his desk, his eyes drinking in all that was before him. A beautiful heat flushed his body, each muscle burning with anticipation.
“Take all of that cock, honey. Down your throat it goes… You know how I like it… Mmmm… that’s it…” he grunted as he neared climax. Slipping a beringed hand beneath the desk, he grabbed a clump of hair from the back and wound it tightly around his fist, ushering the red-headed siren down his shaft as she held the base with both hands. Her ruby red nails dragged slowly along his pubic hair. Echoing sounds of her feverish sucking and slurping filled the room as he rocked his hips slow and easy, delivering more of himself into her mouth. His hips bucked faster, and he groaned as he gripped the edge of the desk and ejaculated inside of her mouth.
“Uhhh! Uhhh….” He breathed hard and heavy as she swallowed his cream, then released him and got onto her feet. Snatching a tissue from the box on his desk, she dabbed the sides of her mouth, quietly got dressed, then re-buttoned his shirt for him. “Thank you, darlin’.” He popped her on the ass, and her lips curled in a pretty smile.
“Anything else you need, baby?” she asked as she leaned over the desk and looked him in the eye.
“Nope. Nothin’ except for you to get the fuck out of my office.” He chuckled and ran his fingers tenderly along her chin, but he meant every word he said.
“Okay.” She shrugged, looking a bit disappointed. “I guess I’ll see ya when I see ya, Mr. Wilde.” She stood straight, blew him a kiss, tossed her hair to one shoulder, then exited his office, closing the door behind herself. Fact of the matter was, there were too many women biting at the chance to be his next wife. He was never getting married again—he’d sworn to that after the explosion of his last marriage. Now he had beautiful women who would practically beg for him to fuck them—all to get a piece of that Wilde money, and a taste of the good life. No one had made him turn his head more than once in a long, long while. Besides, gorgeous women were a dime a dozen.