Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Stop, Noah. I can’t.”
“What? Why?” He continues leaving kiss after kiss down my neck. He tugs at my shirt, wrapping his mouth around my covered nipple. “Missed this, babe.” His finger slides into my sex, but his hands don’t feel right. It’s not him. My heart pounds. I can’t breathe.
“Noah, please. We shouldn’t be doing this. Stop.” He pauses, releasing my nipple, then raises his head, taking in the seriousness in my gaze. “I’m sorry. I thought—we can’t.”
He stills for a second, then nods and climbs off me. “Fuck,” he grunts, adjusting his hard-on.
We’re both silent for a moment. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Figured it was too good to be true.”
“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m just… not in my right mind.”
“Honestly, George. It’s fine. I get it. Let’s just blame it on the tequila and never speak of it again, cool?” He rolls to his side, and I do the same. Disappointment flickers in his eyes, but he quickly masks it with a soft smile. “Honestly, it wasn’t doing anything for me anyway.”
I chuckle and smack his shoulder. “Shut it. But thank you.”
“Yeah…” He stares at me for a beat. “Now, you owe me. Movie and a sleepover?”
“Noah—”
“No touching. Innocent movie. I just… sleep when I’m with you.” Why? I want to ask, but there’s a plea in his eyes that tells me not to push.
“Fine. But I get to pick the movie.”
“Deal.”
Chapter fourteen
Jackson
Ilean back in the velour lounge chair, twirling the ice in my glass.
“Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Blake?”
I keep my focus on the amber liquid. “Keep them coming,” I say, raising my glass. The waitress nods and walks off to tend to my order.
I’ve never been a jealous man. Jealousy is for the weak and less advantageous. I have everything I need at the tip of my fingers, everyone eating out of the palm of my hand. I want for nothing. Except for two things.
The approval of my son.
And now her.
I take a sip of my drink, my fingers gripping the crystal. Let’s leave the grown-ups alone and go up to your room. That little brat was playing games. I saw the way she looked at Samantha. Jealousy oozed from her pores. It got me rock hard. I could have put her mind at ease, but I wanted to toy with her. We’d stopped by the house so I could let Noah know I’d be attending a business dinner and to order food for himself and Georgia. To my surprise, I caught them in a state of drunkenness.
Now, I was the one oozing jealousy. What the hell had they been doing? Had they rekindled their relationship? Fucked and made up? My mind raced with fury as I’d taken in their appearance. Her flushed cheeks. His smile hadn’t led me to believe they’d just been sitting around catching up.
And then her comment. She had no idea who she was playing with. I slam my drink back as it’s replaced with another.
“Is there anything—”
“No,” I snap, needing to be alone with my thoughts.
If my anger hadn’t amused Samantha, I would have shown my cards, stormed upstairs, ripped her out of his room by her hair, and dragged her into mine—shown her what happens when you mess with a man like me. She was hurt. I saw it. But I don’t play these games. I don’t allow someone, let alone a little girl, to make moves in hopes of coming out on top.
Instead, I pushed down the bitterness and went to dinner, entertaining Samantha, one of my long-time clients and close friends. I fought the urge to text Noah, demanding answers. I almost called the office and ordered Sarah to give me the contact info for a certain intern so I could threaten her if her next orgasm came from my son.
Fuck.
I grab my new drink and take an eager sip, the bitterness of it matching the sourness in my stomach. I’m jealous of my fucking son. The girl in his arms right now should be in mine. The crystal in my hand is on the verge of shattering as I imagine her in his bed, her mouth on his, giving him her sweet cunt…
I should have fucked her that night in the kitchen. Showed her who she’s made for. Noah didn’t know what he had, and he lost her. That’s on him. His chance is up. She belongs to me.
I down my drink and leave the club.
I enter my house and walk up the stairs, pausing at Noah’s room. Twisting the knob, I push his door open. A surge of anger floods my system at the sight of them asleep in his bed. My fists clench as I step inside, my gaze fixed on Georgia. If I go any further, there will be no turning back. Once I open that Pandora’s box, there’s no closing it.