Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
He stares at me, and I’m familiar with the expression. My father gave it to me all the time, and it’s the one that makes me feel dumb. Or at least they think I’m dumb. At this point I’m wondering if they are right with how often I make a fool of myself.
“I meant—” He waves his hand to my face and then down my body. I step back, and the sound of my sneakers peeling from the sticky floor has him barking at me again. “Just go!”
I turn around and rush through the swinging door that separates the kitchen from the dining area. I’m not waiting around for George to finish what he was about to say.
A few people turn to glance my way, and I slow my steps. I don’t want to draw attention to myself as I make my way down to the other end of the diner. My eyes land right on Booker, but I can’t see his face. His head is down while he reads the menu, and his Stetson hat conceals him.
“Watch out.” A body slams into my side, and it makes me drop my notepad.
“Sorry,” I mutter, seeing it’s Parson. I lean down and quickly grab the notepad before I keep moving to get away from him.
“You will be,” I think I hear him say under his breath.
He’s one of many that are always glaring at me. In my entire life I think I’ve said three words to the man. I know of a lot of people from this town, I just don’t know them. When I was growing up, that wasn’t allowed.
Booker raises his head, and those piercing green eyes of his lock with mine. Once again, a flutter sets loose inside of me and I’m the one to break eye contact first. It’s challenging to know what Booker is thinking or feeling since his expression is unreadable and he’s always so stoic.
I’ve heard about all the good things he’s done for Mittenville since I got back to town, but he still remains standoffish. It’s not hard to hear what’s happening in town while working at the diner. I hear everything without even trying.
“Morning,” I chirp a bit too loudly.
“It’s afternoon,” someone corrects me from behind.
I ignore it, which I’m sure isn’t helpful. That’s part of the problem. Everyone believes I'm a snotty brat that has fallen from grace. They don’t know my father would raise hell when I was younger if I dared to speak to anyone. He never wanted anyone close to me and told me they didn’t need to know our business.
Now it’s made me shy and not really great with conversations. It’s easy for me to ignore the comments since I did it for years at home.
Pasting a smile on my face, I try again. I’m sure Booker has no clue who I am, and that's probably a good thing at this point.
“I’m Sabrina. I’ll be taking care of you.”
Chapter Two
Booker
She fidgets with the little notepad in her hand as she digs in her dirty apron for a pen. While I wait, I think about what she’s said and all the ways I’d let her take care of me. Then my eyes linger on the button stretched tight at her heavy tits, and I have to spread my knees a little wider. My jeans are suddenly way too tight, and the feel of my zipper digging into my hard cock is uncomfortable.
“Here, use this.” I say it like an order as I slide my pen across the table.
She doesn’t hesitate to take it, and I like how she obeys. “Thank you, I don’t know what happened to mine.” She clears her throat and starts again. “Like I said, I’m Sabrina and I’ll be taking care of you.”
God, do I like hearing her say she’ll take care of me. Images of her ass in the air while I stuff her full from behind flash in my mind like a wish list.
“I know who you are.” My voice is deep like I haven’t used it in a while, but really, it’s because I’m so fucking horny all I want to do is put my dick in her and grunt.
“Oh.” Her cheeks color, and the blush is so pretty, I wonder if it matches her nipples. She bites her bottom lip as she looks around the diner, and I know what she’s thinking.
This town hates her, so if I know her then I probably hate her too. Her name alone gets people in a twist, and then they start popping off at the mouth. Mittenville is a smaller town, so gossip spreads like wildfire. Sabrina Anise happens to be saddled with the last name of the town swindler because she’s his daughter. Most folks don’t remember she was a child when her father was taking money out of their pockets and using it for his own gain. All they see is the grown woman who’s come back to town. And grown she is.