Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
“Sure, sure,” my brother responds in a smooth tone while loading the food into the back of his truck. “It’ll be a fun time.”
“Will there be a live band?” she asks with excitement while twirling a blonde lock around one finger. “I always love a good honky tonk.”
I share a look with my twin because they most definitely will not have a live band. The Madewells are wealthy, but modest in our habits. For a child’s birthday party, at most they’ll have some speakers blasting tunes from an iPhone playlist.
“I don’t think so,” I say in a casual tone. “But we’ll see. Hop in,” I add while opening the door to the truck. “We can all fit in the Durango.”
Kiki nods while gracefully stepping into the cab.
“Yeah, Winston told me the guys are going to take their own vehicles, so I guess we’ll meet them there. Cool,” she says with a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I can’t answer because the sweet woman’s ass bounced into view as she clambered up the steps to the vehicle, and I completely lost my train of thought. Her butt is as round and ripe as a peach, lovingly encased in the tight denim of her mini-skirt. Her thighs are thick, ivory, and luscious, perfect for biting and stroking. Damn, I can’t wait to see her on her back, nude and wet with those thighs spread. Will her vag be a deep pink, glistening and moist, or will it be a lighter pink the color of a dusty rose? I couldn’t see that night at the club, and suddenly, I’m dying to find out.
Calm the fuck down, the voice in my head snarls. Kiki has no idea that she’s about to be exposed to your family, who are a judgmental mass of chatterboxes. Kiki thinks she’s going to a neighborhood block party to dance, drink, and relax. She has no idea she’s about to be thrown into the viper’s pit.
The voice is right, and grimly, I leap into the cab myself before shutting the door. Cason revs the engine, and within minutes, we’re cruising down the road.
“So how was your trip?” Kiki asks, once we’re safely on the highway. “I heard you went to D.C.?”
“We did,” I say as the truck zooms along the road. “Just taking care of some official business.”
“Official business?” Kiki echoes, one brow quirked in a cute way. “May I ask about what, or is it private?”
My brother and I share a look because we really shouldn’t be talking about our affairs with a girl we just met, but then again, what’s the harm in doing so? We’ve already decided not to run for office, so there’s nothing to “hide” per se.
“The President wanted to chat with us,” Cason drawls.
“Oh, the president of what?” Kiki asks. “Of the National Cattlemen’s Beef Association? The Future Farmers of America?”
“No, the President of the United States,” I say in a smooth tone. “The one who lives in the White House.”
Kiki goes very still.
“Really?” she asks.
“Really,” I answer. “The Big Kahuna himself.”
Again, Kiki is very still on the bench between us, and when I look down, I’m almost undone at the sight of her creamy thighs. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to have those encircling my neck as I lick her slick pussy. I want her sighing and breathing my name before she comes hard all over my face, and then I want her to lift her ass and to allow Cason to slide deep into her pussy while I tongue her tiny asshole. That’s how fucked up my fantasies are.
But right now, Kiki’s still processing the fact that we were invited for a private chat with the President.
“May I know what you were speaking about?” she asks in a slow tone. “Or is it top secret?”
“It’s not top secret,” my brother growls in an amused tone, one hand on the steering wheel. “Basically, he wanted to know if we’d be interested in running for political office, but we declined. That kind of shit isn’t our thing.”
“Oh,” Kiki says, a bit flummoxed. “I didn’t know that you were interested in national politics.”
“That’s the point,” I say in a wry tone. “We’re not. But we’ve served a couple years now as Livestock Commissioner for the State of Montana, which is a real hairy position. So as the party casts about for a potential gubernatorial candidate, they landed on us, and the President wanted to bend our ear on potentially running for the seat.”
“Governor of Montana?” Kiki breathes, her eyes wide.
“Yep,” I quip. “Again, the position’s not for us. We’re cattlemen through and through, with a little bit of finance thrown in.”
“Of course,” Kiki states, still trying to process. “The Double C is huge, and it’s a corporation basically. It’s a business that takes a lot of shrewd decision-making and guidance.”