Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
She’s also a woman. Like any other.
No wonder I can’t eat. My heart and mind are raging war against each other. Torn to pieces, I’m battling between what little conscience I have left, my jaded views of women, and the ever-present craving that’s slowly consuming my entire existence.
A craving that magically materializes as a stunning young woman who appears at the other end of the hall. Bianca. Her shoulders are turned inward, her body facing away from me. I can’t make out her face from this distance. Then, like a misty fog, she disappears and ducks into my office. My legs threaten to carry me to her without thinking through what might happen next.
Fuck, I don’t trust myself enough around this girl. How unfortunate, then, that she’s staying here while your daughter is gone.
With a single look, I can strike fear into the heart of the hardest, most brutal men. Certainly, I can handle this little girl, no matter how enticing she is. It doesn’t matter that we shared one dirty secret. Yes, it was wild and hot as fuck, but it was a onetime thing. She probably assumes I didn’t see her anyway. It’s not a big deal. We were both caught up in lust. No doubt that’s how she’s chosen to brush it off.
The desire to confront her pulls me forward. As I walk the length of the hall, every step bringing me closer to her, the animal lust flaring to life low in my gut leaves me wondering if I should fuck her and get it over with or at least eat her pussy the way I’ve been longing to do since that night. Business wise, it might mean getting her out of my system. The way such acts typically leave me bored and uneasy almost as soon as I’ve finished, prepared to show the woman in question to the door and promptly forget we ever met.
Bianca is different. I can’t forget her. She’s part of my life, part of Tatum’s.
She’s also too young for you.
I fight my subconscious. She’s a grown woman.
She’s your daughter’s best friend.
Tatum never has to know.
My insides are wound tight by the time I cross the threshold. I pause in the doorway, and surprise and concern slam into me all at once. Quiet sobs fill the space. Bianca’s shoulders shake with every breath she takes. She’s fragile like glass, and so very breakable. Sitting in the chair behind my desk, her small hands cover her face. Is she ashamed that she’s crying? She has no reason to be ashamed. Protective instinct clouds my judgment, but lust lingers at the forefront. Both fight to see who will win.
I want to fuck her, but I want to comfort her as well.
No matter what, one thing is clear: I feel too strongly about her to brush her aside. I can’t pretend she’s nothing but a nuisance or temptation when the sight and sound of her sobbing pushes me to kill whoever hurt her.
Whoever hurt what is mine.
Clenching my fists, I feel the distinct rush of blood in my ears, the need to destroy. Fuck, I’ve never felt so territorial over a woman. I’ve never wanted a woman like I want Bianca. Dammit, I can’t stand here and let her continue to cry; the sound is enough to crack me wide open.
BIANCA
Dammit! I told myself I wouldn’t do this again. That I was done feeling sorry for myself, but here I am, sitting at Callum’s desk with fresh tears racing down my cheeks. I should’ve fought the emotions until I reached Tatum’s wing of the house. When she told me her father had the keys, I figured I’d slip in, grab them, and go back to the bedroom. That didn’t happen. As soon as my fingers closed around the keys, the voices of all my failures came rushing back.
Everything I kept at bay during the wild rush of packing and making arrangements with the landlord came pouring out, and of course, once the tears start, there is no stopping them.
The reality of it is almost suffocating. All that’s left now are feelings. Despair. Anguish. Heartbreak. The hole in my chest cracks further the more I think about it. Yes, things with Lucas were going downhill, and we were probably going to break up eventually, but those thoughts don’t lessen the pain. He was my first relationship, my first love.
My despair turns to anger in a flash. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to think, but that’s all that’s left to do. Another uncontrollable sob rips from my chest. My life is imploding around me, the pieces scattering in the aftermath. I can’t move fast enough to pick them up.
The stupid organ in my chest beats louder and louder. Every choice I made up to this day puts me where I am now. Homeless, squatting at my best friend’s house. I’m a fucking charity case. At this point, I could die from shame.