Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“I’m going to beat your ass.”
I grabbed for him again, but the asshole always managed to dodge me again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Better hurry up. I wouldn’t want to leave her alone with Mom too long, if I were you. She may decide to speed things up between you and Joy on her own.”
Ignoring Diego, and my smirking father, I stalked off in the direction of the kitchen, once again cursing my mother for building a home the size of a shopping mall. When I was a kid, I’d ride my skateboard through the hallways, much to my mother’s irritation. It was either that or run from one side of the house to the other. Knowing Joy was somewhere close enough to touch, to taste, blocked out everything else as I became focused on getting to her side as quickly as possible.
I didn’t deserve her, wasn’t good for her, but fuck it.
She was mine, and even though she didn’t know it yet, I was hers.
For months, I’d been in denial. Even when I was trying to convince myself I was acting like a crazy man, I couldn’t stop thinking of her, fantasizing about her. I always dreamed of Joy touching me, stroking me, drowning me in her overabundant affection. Some men would feel smothered by her need to nurture of those she loved, but I craved it. I wanted a traditional, old-fashioned marriage, where the man takes care of the woman, protects her, takes care of all the problems so she could be happy and love her family without stress or worry. I knew Joy wanted that too.
I’d secretly watched her on hidden cameras in her apartment as Joy had drunkenly confessed to Hannah one night that she wished she could be a housewife, like her abuela, but that her mom had been appalled at the idea. Evidently, Joy’s mom and older sister were somewhat militant feminists, and they’d found the idea of a nine-year-old Joy telling them she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom like abuela Rosa when she grew up horrifying. While I didn’t have the details, it sounded like they’d shamed Joy for not wanting to go to college, for having the desire to stay home and raise a family instead of having her career first.
I had to pause as I neared the kitchen, the echo of feminine voices faint enough that I was sure my mother was having a late lunch with Joy out on the patio. A longing to join them filled me, but I stayed inside instead, inching over so I could see through the large window and try and catch a glimpse of Joy. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts and get control of my dick. It was like my cock could sense she was near as he tried to get hard.
Taking a deep breath, I controlled my body and forced myself to relax.
The warm breeze from the outdoors filtered into the kitchen, and I swore I could smell a hint of strawberries and peaches in the air.
My Joy.
My skin prickling with anticipation, I scanned the yard for her. When I saw her laughing in the sun, my chest constricted in a weird way. Even with the signs of her recent beating clear on her face, she was stunning. Wearing a light green sundress that showed off her curvy figure, her smile made my knees fucking weak. My heart began to thunder, and my dick got hard and aching, despite my best efforts to remain unaffected. I swear, even the fucking hair on my arms stood up. I braced my hands on the counter, but the need to go to her, to touch her, urged my body to move. Some primitive part of me demanded that I claim her as soon as possible, that I get a taste of her sweet lips.
Fuck, I was like a goddamn animal in rut around her.
One sniff of her on the breeze, and I was ready to stake my claim.
“Look at her, all those curves.” Diego’s low voice came from behind me. “She’s a natural beauty, inside and out.”
I ignored him, instead grabbing a green and black plate from the tall walnut cabinets then heaping it with a rice and eggs mixture simmering on the massive stove. “Your point?”
“My point is, if you don’t go after her, I will.”
“The fuck you will.”
He took a step away from me, a teasing grin on his face, but his dark eyes were cold and hard. “Then why are you standing here looking out a window instead of talking to her? I would have thought that you’d be sick of just staring at her from a distance. What? The only way you can look at her is on a screen? Too scared to see her in person? Stalker.”