Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
A series of erotic snapshots from last night causes blood to flow south to my cock, lifting the heavy length against the zipper of my jeans. As if she senses I’ve got an erection for her, June lifts her head, giving me a fleeting but curious glance across the parking lot, then goes back to scrolling her phone.
“June sure is something, isn’t she?” says Whit to my left, whistling under his breath.
I didn’t even know he was standing there.
Wait. What the fuck did he say?
Did he just whistle?
“What do you mean ‘she sure is something’?” I drawl, carefully.
“I mean…” He gives me an anxious wince. “I’m thinking of asking her out.”
Those six words ring in my head like a death toll. “Asking out June?”
“Yeah. She’s single. I’m single. It makes sense.”
My head is going to explode right off my shoulders. “You’re thirty-four.”
“Come on. That’s not so crazy.” He’s staring at June. I want to rip off his glasses and shove them down his throat. “She’s just so damn pretty. I’m going to shoot my shot.”
“You shoot that shot, Whit, you’re going to get shot.”
He does a double take. “What? By who?”
“Me, motherfucker.”
The manager stares at me, open-mouthed. “Are you interested in her?”
“I’m interested in you leaving her alone. That’s all you need to know.”
He turns to me with his arms crossed, like he’s suddenly some kind of tough guy when in reality he builds model airplanes in his spare time. “You need to give me a better reason than that.”
“That’s Sandy’s niece, Whit.”
Yes, I heard myself. I know I’m a hypocrite.
“I asked Sandy for his permission,” Whit counters.
My heart is starting to pound ominously in my ribcage, like it might shatter the bones and jump out onto the ground. This is happening. Right now. Whit beat me to the punch and did the right thing by June. “You did what?”
“Why are you acting so shocked? She’s—”
“You’re fired.”
Whit stares at me in pure shock. Some of the crew has obviously overheard our argument and stopped their conversations to listen. “You’re firing me?”
“No, I fired you. Past tense. Better book a plane ticket.”
“This is ridiculous,” Whit sputters, looking around for help. Everyone stares at the floor, whistling. Properly afraid of me, the way Whit should have been. “Good luck finding another manager who is willing to put up with your shit!”
I’m already walking toward the bus.
I’m walking toward June.
Obviously sensing there is a drama afoot, she pops out one of her headphones, looking at me with an eyebrow piqued. “Is everything okay?”
Before I know my own mind, I’m pointing at the entrance of the bus. “Get on. Now.”
She rears back an inch. “Excuse me? You can’t talk to me like that.”
My stride doesn’t break and I keep going until I’m nearly upon June. Until she must tilt her head back to keep eye contact with me, her lips parting on an intake of breath at whatever hell she sees in my expression. “Daddy is telling you to get on the fucking bus.” I lick my lips while looking at her luscious little mouth. “All the way in the back. March.”
She thinks about disobeying.
Problem is, she wants to do as she’s told.
Problem is, the order makes her hot.
I can see it in the expansion of her pupils, the plumping of her lips. The deepening of the color in her cheeks. She wants to be a good girl and do what I’ve asked. Because as much as what I’m doing is wrong, June is nothing but right for me.
If only I was right for her. In a permanent way.
My balls throb as she turns and climbs the stairs into the bus, that skirt short enough to give me a glimpse of her tight, young ass cheeks. And I know damn well that me and this jealous dick are about to make everything so much worse. So be it, though.
I’m angry and horny as sin.
“It looks like you and Whit were having an argument,” she says over her shoulder.
“You could say that,” I growl, following her down the walkway to the back of the bus. This is a bigger, better one than yesterday. With small sleeping compartments in the back. One of them is even a “primary” bedroom, though it’s more like a broom closet.
There’s a door on it, though, and that’s all that matters.
That’s where I’m bringing her.
“What was the argument about?” June asks.
I grind my molars at the reminder of that smug son of a bitch telling me he’s going to shoot his shot with June. “You. It was over you. Is that what you want to hear? He wants to ask you out.”
That catches her off guard and her step falters. “Oh. Okay…so what? That made you mad?”
“No.” I propel her into the small room and kick the door shut behind me. “It made me fucking crazy.”