His throat bobs, and he admits, “Tuesday, I work the weekends.”
I’m instantly shaking my head as I state, “I can’t on Tuesdays, I visit Granny at Wincher Resort, and as fancy as it sounds, it really is just a care home.”
“Okay, then I’ll just come with you.” He murmurs, “Unless you don’t even want your Granny to know about us?”
I break eye contact not sure if I could involve her, and he squeezes me closer to him and rasps, “Just one chance, buttercup...”
Everything inside me is saying yes, wanting me to jump on him, but my head, it pictures my mother and Bruce, and I instantly want to recoil.
Should I take a chance on him and risk my heart?
Would he even let me say no anyway?
More importantly, can I hide it from my mother?
Chapter 3
Tank – Age Twenty-Three
“I’m proud of you, son,” my dad says as he slaps my back, and I try not to tense.
Fucker knows that I hate contact, no thanks to Mama and despite the tattoos, the scars are still visible.
Trying not to snap at him, I give him a fake smile while the urge to run outta here yanks at my insides like it normally does because of course, Mama invited Kate and her leech of a mother, Lyndsey, who has told everyone she left her husband last year after he apparently cheated when in reality, he left her high and dry.
Both keep eyeing me up, which is just pissing me off, and the fact that Mama invited them to the clubhouse despite outsiders not being welcome on a fucking weekday is just ridiculous.
I don’t even want to be here, fuck, I don’t even know why Mama is making such a big deal out of this when she hates the route I’ve taken.
So what, Doc and I have completed our first year in medical school, so fucking what that we’ve somehow and don’t ask me how because I honestly don’t even know but both managed to get moved up a year meaning we now instead of having three years left, we only have two years left of medical school. Celebrating really isn’t worth it and being here is the last fucking place I want to be right now.
“Thanks, Dad,” I mumble as I pick at the label on my beer bottle, which I haven’t even touched, as I glare at it, wondering when I can get away with leaving. I mean, it’s only been ten minutes, but surely that is long enough, right?
I want to get outta here, and not just because my mother is trying her hardest to get me with Kate even knowing I fucked her friend, something I told her hoping she’d back off but it only made her double down, but because my girl is waiting for me at home, my girl who wants fuck all to do with the club which I understand.
Two years later, and I know pretty much everything I need to understand why Jasmine Williams doesn’t want to be owned and would instantly deny a property cut.
Her whole life has been micro-managed to the point her car has a tracker on it, fuck, she bought herself a cheap run around that she drives from home to her old house just off campus before swapping cars because she doesn’t want her parents to know she’s moved out of the house they still pay for.
Did I make her move in with me right after we began dating? Nah, I was nice enough to wait at least a month, using the fact I was graduating and wouldn’t be able to see her much as an excuse, and it worked because my buttercup didn’t even hesitate.
Fuck, she consumes me, she has since day one, and I know I consume her just as much as she consumes me.
“I love you, Logan,” Jas whispers as I frame her head with my arms, keeping my weight off her while lining my rock-hard cock at her entrance.
“Tell me again,” I press as I run my nose against hers, and she smiles, her eyes shining.
“I love you,” she repeats, and I swear I fucking melt.
“I fucking love you too, buttercup,” I reply, full of love, and I press my lips against hers as she wraps her legs around my waist. I thrust forward, ready to connect us, but still, as I tear through a barrier, and she tenses as I break the kiss and look at her in shock with wide eyes, while hers are squeezed tight as she grips my shoulders.
Fuck me.
“Please tell me I did not just go through what I think I just went through,” I choke.
She opens her watery eyes and locks them with mine as she coughs, “Okay, I won’t, but please move…”
The little…
