Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
“It isn’t just about what you’ve done for me… I’d be here anyway.”
I tipped my head. “Really? You’d be here with me, the creepy man upstairs, if it weren’t for the fact that I intervened when you were desperate?”
Her eyes stayed firmly on mine. “Yeah, I would be. I’ve been thinking about more than just the way you saved Mum from Scott that night. A lot more.” She looked away from me with another blush. “I’d be here anyway, regardless of Scottie. You’re, um…”
She pushed her glasses up her nose in her trademark manner. It gave me a hard cock and a pang in the ribs, both in sync.
I loved the way she giggled, just a little.
“You’re pretty cool, you know, Julian? Hot, and smart, and brilliant. You’re a lot more than a creepy man upstairs.”
It knocked me aback, hugely. I’d been approached and appreciated by many young girls in my life, but they had seen me against a different backdrop. Proud, successful, preened and polished. Not as a freaky loser in a suit from Crenham Drive.
I had to keep myself straight. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to slam her straight down onto the cushions and take her virginity like a beast on a mission.
“I’m not going to fuck you tonight. You aren’t in a position to have a clear head on things.”
She shrugged. “What about when I do have a clear head on things? I’ll still want it tomorrow, even when I’m exhausted after college. I’ll want it every single minute, until you give it to me.”
I’d forgotten all about the time. We were deep into the early hours, with Rosie due at college, and my office monotony starting for a whole new week in the morning. Now definitely wasn’t the time to be easing my way into her virginity.
“I shouldn’t take advantage of you,” I said. “You’re a vulnerable girl in a difficult situation, with your whole life ahead of you.”
She brushed it aside. “Sure, yeah. Just say you’ll think about fucking me, will you?”
There was a tiny glimpse of her humour again. It was so genuine, and so quietly her, that I wished I could bottle it. It would be a bestseller on the essence front. Shame I couldn’t bottle that glorious essence of hers and press it to the pages of one of my ancient thriller novels. A character like her might well top the charts.
If only she knew it. She had no real faith in herself whatsoever. I wished she could see herself through my eyes, even for just a second.
“Time for bed,” I said, getting up to hold out a hand.
“Fine,” she said and let me pull her to her feet. It was becoming beautifully familiar.
She followed me into the bathroom, using her new toothbrush as I used my old one. There was a bizarre connection forming between us, making this joint bedtime ritual almost cathartic in its simplicity. I’d forgotten what it felt like to share the basics with someone. Not once had any of my playthings seen my daily, mundane practices.
I left Rosie alone as she hovered by the toilet. I didn’t want to impose on that kind of privacy, even though my cock was desperate to see every single inch and spectacle of her, so I went on through to the bedroom. I got the bed ready for her, fluffing up the pillows. I was still positioning them when she appeared in the doorway.
“Will you stay in here with me?” she asked. “You don’t have to fuck me, you can just sleep.”
“If I stay in here, I will want to fuck you, Rosie. A lot.”
“Even more reason to stay in here, then.” She yawned with a grin, the sweetness in her shining. “Please, Julian. I like it, having you close. Plus, you won’t have to sleep on the sofa. Double win.”
It was tempting. I’d love nothing more than to hold her tight. Could I trust my resolve, though? Really?
She shuffled on her feet, like she was awaiting a verdict, and there was no doubt that I’d have to give it a try.
“Yes, I’ll sleep in here with you,” I said.
She looked as though I’d bestowed an honour. Crazy, how little a girl of her character and beauty had come to expect from life.
Grinning like a kid on Christmas Day morning, she whipped my shirt off over her head and dropped it on the floor. “Which side do you sleep on?” she asked, hands on her tiny hips.
I stared at her naked beauty but only for moments before I grabbed up the shirt and flung it at her.
“The shirt stays on,” I said despite my raging hard-on.
She rolled her eyes, made a show of wriggling slowly back into the shirt.
“I’m easy,” I said, “you choose,” and indicated to the bed.