Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“Mmph!” I moaned in delight, chewing and swallowing slowly. “That was soooo good,” I admitted, my taste buds alight with new sensations.
And Tucker just smiled, satisfied.
“See?” he said smugly. “I know exactly what my girl likes, what she wants, what she needs.”
I heated up all over again. Oh god, his words sent a thrill all over my body, my heart beating quickly, my lungs growing tight. I was “his girl”? Tucker knew what I wanted, what I needed? Oh god, oh god. Because what would it be like to give it up to this man, to fall entirely within his thrall, let him take care of me? I wandered into dreamland for a moment, envisioning my future. Oh yeah, days and nights with the big man, him coming home sweaty and warm, sharing a shower before dinner, him feeding me morsels, loving my curvy form with every sweep of his eyes, every stroke of his hands before we tumbled into bed.
I smiled at him then, in love already, in love with my future, with everything his blue eyes promised. But there were still so many things that I didn’t understand about the man, things that made no sense, and this was as good as a time to ask as any. So between mouthfuls, I tried to get some answers.
“Tucker,” I began after swallowing another heavenly bite, “how are you able to live here?” I questioned, gesturing with my hand to the luxurious space, the fancy furniture. “I mean this is such a pricey neighborhood. Or do you get really good tips?” I stuttered, coloring slightly. Oh god. I’m not great at thinking things through and hearing my words out in the open made me realize how rude it sounded. Oh fuck, I’d just violated an unspoken rule not to ask about someone’s income, even in a roundabout way.
But Tucker was all smooth sailing, unruffled, unperturbed.
“Yeah, these are nice digs aren’t they?” he asked, glancing around at place before picking up a second slice of pizza and pulling off a small piece of singed crust with his fingertips, frowning. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was picking only the best parts for me, discarding any food that looked less than pristine, like I really was his woman, his treasure, deserving of only the very best. I grew warm all over again, tingles running through my body, my cunt growing soft and moist, loose in anticipation of him. And when he leaned over to feed me another morsel, I immediately took it, my brown eyes wide, supplicating.
But he hadn’t forgotten my question.
“This place belongs to some friends of mine,” he threw out casually. “They’re letting me housesit while they travel in Europe, probably sunning themselves on a big white yacht in the Mediterranean,” he said wryly. “Hey, some folks caught the internet boom and made a bunch of cash back in the day, it was good times all around.”
And I chewed nodding. I remembered when the papers always seemed to be filled with some young billionaire with a baby face.
“I know,” I said wistfully. “But it passed me by. I mean look at me,” I said gesturing to myself. “I work in City government and am barely paid minimum wage, I only wish I were one of the lucky ones.”
Tucker frowned a little before speaking.
“You tell me if you need any money, okay honey?” he said softly, his eyes fixed on mine. “You let me know right away.”
And before I could open my mouth to protest, he went on.
“Besides, I dunno,” he said slowly. “Having a shit-pile of money doesn’t mean you have it all. I mean, these are friends of mine, so I know them pretty well and they’re not exactly the happiest dudes on earth. They still have problems, just different ones,” he shrugged. “Nothing that you or I would understand or even care about, but problems just the same.”
I was quick to agree.
“Oh of course,” I nodded, “Yeah, absolutely. Too much money never solved anything, and I’m a girl who’s perfectly happy with pizza and beer,” I said with a smile.
The big man’s eyes darkened then, a warm fist descending over mine, gripping my fingers, his eyes eating me up hungrily, appreciatively.
“I know,” he growled deep in his chest. “That’s one of the things I love about you little girl,” he said. “It doesn’t take much to make you happy, just a pizza, some beer, some shampoo and laundry detergent. Not even the fancy stuff, just the regular brands,” he rumbled.
I giggled at that.
“Why, do some of your customers order stuff that’s way overpriced?” I asked curiously. “Shampoo from the department store, that kind of thing?”
The big man just snorted, sitting back in his chair.
“Worse,” he said with a wry pull of his mouth. “They order laundry detergent from France, shit that costs ten times what it should. Can you imagine? Instead of Tide or whatever, they’re using some imported stuff just because it’s from France. Not to mention the bottled water,” he added, shaking his head. “They’re washing their clothes in bottled water, believe it or not.”