Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Our bodies slapped together. I was sweaty, his hair wet with the same. It hung in his eyes. He looked almost feral…for me. My hole was tender, but I didn’t want him to stop. My cock leaked precome, my balls ached for release.
Knox still held my hips, pushed down a little so I arched just right for him. He slowed the pump of his hips, wrapped his arms around me, bent over so his chest was on my back, his mouth close to my ear. We still watched each other, but it had changed. We were still fucking, yeah, but he was also making love to me. All my wires were fried, my body overheating and my heart swelling as he hit all the right places inside me.
Knox wrapped a hand around my cock and stroked. “Christ, you feel so good. I’m dying to fill you up, to mark you that way too.”
“Oh God.” My eyes rolled back before zeroing in on him again. Just as they did, he gave a sharp thrust and jerk at the same time. It was all I needed to send me careening over the edge into orgasm. I shot, kept shooting, each drive of his hips pulling another creamy spurt.
“Fuck, Cal. Me too.” Knox’s cock spasmed inside me, and I felt a hot spurt of come, then another and another.
He didn’t move. We stayed there, me leaning over the dresser, Knox mounting me from behind.
He kissed my neck, my sweaty shoulder. His hair tickled my skin.
“I like seeing this there.” He pointed to the tree. “Having a part of me in this room with you when I’m not here.”
“You’re always with me, Knox.”
When he went soft, he took my hand and led me to the bed. We lay down, facing each other. “I have to go. I made up a reason to head out, but I don’t want to leave them alone too long.”
“She hates me,” I said with more vulnerability in my voice than I’d meant.
“Cal, she doesn’t hate you.” He pushed my hair off my forehead. “She’s a tough one…protective…possessive. She’ll love you just like Logan and I do.”
The perfect words, but there was something in his voice that told me Knox wasn’t sure he believed them any more than I did.
“Has she ever been like this with your friends before?” She didn’t know we were together, so it couldn’t even be that.
Knox didn’t answer, which was all the reply I needed.
“It’ll work out,” he said softly.
I hoped he was right.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Knox
About a week had gone by since our day at the park. Callum had been to the house a few times, and so far, Charlie hadn’t been any better with him than that first time. She wasn’t outright rude, but she made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with him. She was also clingy to me when he was around, doing her best to keep us away from each other, sitting between us, or politely refusing him anytime he tried to actively engage with her.
I wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was. I sat down and had a talk with her—without telling her Callum and I were together—trying to see if she would tell me what was wrong, but she played it off as if it was nothing. Obviously, now wasn’t the time to tell her about us. That truth sat heavy and aching in my chest. Every time I looked at Callum, I could tell he felt it too. It was wearing on him, and I felt trapped between my child and the man I loved.
It was a Saturday, and Callum was coming over later for dinner and to watch a movie. Dale had stayed over the night before. He and Logan were playing video games while they waited for Amanda to pick him up.
I was in the barn, working on Callum’s table—I hadn’t had much time lately to finish it—when my daughter came in.
“Hey, Charlie-girl.” I smiled, and she returned it.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Do you want to help me with this table I’m working on?”
Her eyes widened with delight. “Yes!” She wandered over. “You’re gonna put the epoxy stuff through the middle where it’s open, right? And it’ll look like a river the way the one in the living room does.”
“Exactly. Here, let’s get you some gloves.” I tugged two out of a box and slipped them on her hands. I kept a package of smalls for when she was here.
“How come you need two of these tables?”
“I don’t,” I replied, trying to gauge her reactions without making it too obvious. “We’re making this one for Callum.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Charlie.”
“You do everything for Callum. He’s always hanging out with us. You and Logan never stop talking about him. Your other friends don’t hang out with us all the time, and you don’t make them tables, and you and Logan don’t always blab about how awesome they are.”