Property of Pops Read Online Jessa Kane

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Kink, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
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I find myself throwing a sidelong glance at the general. Is he looking at me? My nipples pebble inside the triangles of my white bikini top at the possibility that he’s singled me out. At the possibility that he’s been watching me for so long. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

Wanda groans and flops back into the sand. “I can’t believe I’m best friends with a virgin who isn’t even interested in de-virgining herself. The universe has a sick sense of humor.”

“You love me,” I say, elbowing her in the ribs.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She blows out a breath. “Well, I guess I’ve put it off long enough. I better go greet my grandfather.” She climbs to her feet, dusting off patches of sand from her backside. “Come on. I’ll introduce you. And use you as a shield when he inevitably makes me want to pee myself.”

“He can’t be that bad.”

“He gave me a field survival book for my fifth birthday.”

“It’s a practical gift!”

“That’s what he said.” Wanda regards me oddly for a moment, then grabs my wrist and tugs me forward. Toward him. My heart is already galloping in response to being face to face with this powerhouse of a man. It’s such an extreme reaction that I stumble a little in the sand. “Come on, virgin,” Wanda says out of the corner of her mouth. “Prepare to meet your doom.”

2

Walt

What in the hell is wrong with me?

I can’t seem to stop watching the brunette in her little white bikini. It’s disgusting behavior on my part. Foul. She’s obviously friends with my granddaughter and that probably means they are the same age. Early twenties. Way, way too young. Criminally so.

This isn’t a problem I usually have—lusting after younger women. Hell, I like sex as much as the next guy, but only with women of an appropriate age. And only when I have time. Once it’s over, that’s it. The physical need has been fulfilled and I can move on to more important shit. But Jesus, I’ve never seen anything so sweet in my sixty-three years and I’ve been to damn near every country under the sun. Every man on the beach is in the same predicament, too. Unable to quit staring at her graceful legs, her little cans knocking around in those tiny triangles. The eager innocence of her expression.

Enough of that, sicko.

This is retirement’s fault. I’m all out of whack. I don’t have anything to keep me occupied except reading old war books and restoring the engine of my sixty-six Mustang. Fuck golf. It’s boring. But obviously I need something to occupy my mind because it’s beginning to drift to places it has no place being. Like onto my granddaughter’s friend and the shape of her waist. Hips. The way sunlight picks up deep red strands in her hair. My God, she’s a beauty.

And she definitely isn’t for a grandfather like me.

One of these young bucks on the beach will probably take her for a roll in the hay before the night is over. They probably won’t have enough skill to give her an orgasm and she’ll be left unsatisfied and aching. But that’s none of my goddamn business. So why are my fists curled in the pockets of my board shorts, ready to strike? I can’t possibly be feeling this violent toward whoever brings this baby home, can I?

No way. It’s just retirement. Has me all messed up and confused about what I want.

What I need.

It can’t be her, though. Not unless I want my family to call me a cradle robber. I’ve been absent in their lives for so long and I came here determined to be present. To reconnect with my son, my granddaughter. My brothers and sisters. Nieces and nephew. I’m the patriarch of this family and I haven’t been around in too long. I need to focus on them. Not someone four decades younger than me, for the love of everything holy.

Resolutely, I keep my gaze locked on my granddaughter’s face as she approaches, though the urge to watch the brunette come closer is gripping me.

“Grandad Walt,” Wanda says warmly, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Glad to be here,” I manage in a rumble. My social skills are abysmal. Haven’t needed to be social since…hell, since I was Wanda’s age, really. “How far along are you in school now?”

“Just finished my third year,” she says, smile bright, but wobbly. Almost like she’s a little scared of me. Exactly why I need to make a serious effort with my family this weekend. “Um…allow me to introduce you to my best friend, Coco.”

Coco.

That name is a rough sock in the gut.

Before I know what’s happening, my granddaughter is not-so-subtly shoving the brunette toward me, ducking down slightly to hide behind her back. And the girl—Coco—trips and lands smack against my chest, her tits pressing up against the highest point of my stomach. I just about manage to uncross my arms and steady her before she falls. But then…then she blinks up at me and my balls tighten painfully. Fuck. Me.



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