Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Jade hesitates and then sighs. "Yeah, you're right. So Mom and Dad don't know?"
"Donny called Dad and said that I quit for no reason."
"Jesus. What an asshole!" She huffs an offended breath. "Are we burning down his house or what?"
"Nah, I think we'll leave it for Madeline in the divorce. She deserves it for putting up with his shit. But I'm not going back to work there. I'd rather starve first." Not that I will or anything. My parents won't let that happen.
"Uh, definitely not," Jade agrees. "I will strangle you if you even think about going back to work for him."
"Gee, thanks."
"Just saying."
"You can't tell Dad."
"Obviously. I mean, he could probably get away with murdering Donny, but it's best not to risk it. I doubt he'd let us come visit him in prison. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I was going to stay here for a few days…" I glance toward the door. "But Trystan is here."
"Oh."
I roll my eyes at her tone. It's that smug, knowing tone I hate, the one that conveys so much while saying so little. "He's already trying to tell me what to do. I swear, he gets off on trying to boss people around. It's a kink for him. It has to be."
Jade laughs softly. "You know that's not it, Clo."
"It's something. He's unbearable."
"You're the only one he ever tries to boss around."
"Whatever. Am not." Except…she's not entirely wrong. He's never been an overbearing asshole to her, Mia, or Catherine. He's not even an overbearing asshole to his sister, Avery, or any of his cousins. Everyone else gets the laid-back, fun Trystan. I get the despotic, pain in the ass version.
Rude.
"Maybe he likes you."
"Oh, so I see we're living in the land of delusion today," I say. "I guess that means you still don't want to talk about how Jax is in love with you?"
"What? He is not!" she practically shrieks, loud enough for Thanos to lift his head, one eye cracked. He huffs and then closes it again, settling in for another nap. I swear, he's the calmest Malinois I've ever met in my life. The poor guy just wants to enjoy his retirement in peace, but the whole world stresses him out.
"Uh-huh. Like I said, land of delusion," I tease Jade, reaching out to stroke Thanos's ear. He leans into me, stretching like a cat in sunlight.
"Whatever," my sister grumbles. "We're talking about your delusions, not mine. You need to call Dad."
"I will," I sigh.
"Promise?"
"Yes, Mother." I roll my eyes. For her to be only a year older than me, she sure is bossy. "I'll call him soon." Just as soon as I figure out what lie I'm going to tell him to placate him. Anything is better than the truth at this point.
"Love you."
"I love you too," I say before disconnecting. I don't immediately call my dad, though. Instead, I stare at the phone for long moments before dropping it onto the bed and then climbing to my feet. Maybe I'll call after I shower. It was a long drive from San Francisco.
Thanos doesn't even move, so I leave him on the bed and stride out into the hallway, looking both ways for Trystan. The house is silent, and he doesn't immediately appear to annoy the hell out of me, so I quickly rush across the hall to the bathroom.
My hand is on the handle when I hear a soft groan from inside. It doesn't sound like pain, more like…pleasure.
What the hell?
I don't know why I do it—pure curiosity, perhaps—but I press my ear to the door, holding my breath.
For a long moment, all I hear is faint shuffling from the opposite side, and then Trystan's voice bleeds through.
"Chloe, fuck," he groans.
Oh.
Oh. My. God.
Is he…?
"Yeah, princess, suck me just like that," he growls, his voice deep and throaty in a way I've never heard before.
My nipples immediately turn to hard points, my womb clenching. I bite my lip, fighting the moan crawling up my throat.
Trystan is getting himself off. And he's thinking about me.
I should be pissed, right? My jerk of an ex-boss just told me that he does the same thing, and it was horrifying. But this feels nothing like that. This feels a little like heaven. Naughty, perfect heaven.
I know I shouldn't keep listening, but since when have I ever done what I should? Since never, that's when.
I lean closer to the door, my cheek against the cool wood, listening to Trystan get himself off. It's wrong, so damn wrong. And yet…my entire body is an electric fire, burning up my synapses.
How many times have I done the same thing over the years? Touched myself while thinking about him? Woken up with his name ringing out around me? Too many to count. It's always him. Even before I understood what it meant, it was him. Even after I realized it'd never happen, it was still him. Even now, when we barely even tolerate one another, it's still him.