Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Wanna explain that one?” Jackson asks, his tone less accusatory.
“Like he said, it was nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing—”
“Jackson, I know you don’t want to hear this, but Noah and I have a past. There are things you don’t know and things I’m not going to share. We were good, but a lot of the time, we were not. This breakup was not his choice. He’s angry and lashing out.”
“He needs to get over it. He can’t treat you like that.”
“He just needs time. Leave it be. Poking him will only make things worse.”
He steps closer but leaves a decent amount of space between us. The breeze picks up, lifting my cover-up.
“What the fuck are those?” Jackson’s sudden change of mood startles me, his eyes trained on my hips.
“I told you I ran into the bed.”
He extends his hand toward me, then thinks better of it and drops it back to his side. “The bed.”
I reattach the string of my cover-up, worried he’ll see the other side. Highly unlikely he’ll believe the other bedpost caused those. “Are you finished with your calls?”
He takes a short beat to snap out of his fury. “I still have some emails to send.”
“Good. Why don’t you bring your laptop out here? You can take the table in front of me. I can get a tan while you finish. I promise you the best view in the house.” His eyes travel over to the table directly in front of my lounge chair, giving him a front-row show to look between my legs.
“You drive a hard bargain, Peach.”
“I aim to please, Mr. Blake.”
He growls, wiping his hand across his lips. “I don’t know how I’m going to last the whole day without eating your sweet pussy.”
“Sounds like a fun game of who can keep their hands to themself longer.”
His eyes light with desire. He’s demanded I masturbate for him on quite a few occasions, and it’s been hot as hell. He always loses control and takes over, fucking me with his fingers, his tongue. Right now is no different.
“You touch yourself, and I’ll have your ass sore for days.”
“Game on, Daddy.”
At his growl, heat unfurls in my belly. He hates it when I call him ‘daddy.’ “Be ready to pay for that, little girl.”
“Counting on it.” He adjusts his slacks to hide his hard-on. Then, before he gives in and pulls me into his arms, he stalks off.
Chapter twenty-one
Jackson
Idon’t know why I thought I’d get any work done sitting out here. My cursor has been on the same line I’ve been attempting to review for the last thirty minutes. Through my sunglasses, my eyes linger on Georgia’s thighs and the thin white ribbon that holds her bottoms in place over her hips. My dick is hard as steel, straining against my shorts. I take in the bruise forming on her upper hip, wondering if I was too rough with her.
“What’s got your attention, Mr. Blake?”
Her thighs sway open, giving me the most glorious view. “Pull your suit away and show me your pussy.” It’s risky, but fuck, I want to see what’s mine.
“Mr. Blake, that’s not very appropriate.”
“Are you denying me what’s mine?”
Her legs shake, and I look back at her covered cunt, waiting for the spot from her arousal to show. I know my girl, and she’s loving this.
“And what do I get if I show you?” My little minx licks her lips. Her hand smooths down her belly, skating along her thigh. She’s inches from her pretty pussy, and I lock on the thin patch of fabric, waiting to bask in her glistening pussy.
My phone rings.
I glance at the caller and cuss. Holding eye contact, I answer. “Wayne.”
“I hope I’m not bothering you. I was told you took the day off.”
“Of course not.” I pull the phone away and address Georgia. “I have to take this. Don’t move.” I head downstairs into the cabin suite and shut the door. “Tell me what you got.”
Wayne exhales heavily, and I brace myself. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. It took me a while to piece things together. At first, nothing stood out. Then I remembered something. It was a couple of years ago, so I’m not sure if it’s still relevant, but considering everything that’s happened, I think it’s worth mentioning.”
My brows crease as he continues, the timeline catching me off guard. Years ago?
“We had an inspector come in,” he says. “Just routine maintenance—nothing out of the ordinary. What stuck with me, though, was an elementary school tour that happened the same day. Standard field trip stuff: chaperones, curious kids asking the usual questions. But there was this one older boy who stood out. He wasn’t really engaged—kept to himself—and asked questions that felt... off-script. Later, I noticed him away from the group, talking to the inspector. When I asked about it, his response was strange and nervous. He avoided the question like he was hiding something.