“Jack.”
“Yes, Jack. He inherited the house and center. He was eighteen at the time, so he was granted guardianship of his brothers.”
“So he’s twenty-three?” I ask, a little too excited to learn more about him.
“Mm-hm.”
“That’s sweet he wanted to raise them. It sounds like his family experienced a lot of grief at such a young age.”
Mom says nothing. Only lifts her wineglass and takes a small sip. Just enough to wet her lips. Dad shrugs, also seeming unaffected.
“Jack got into trouble the first few years. Drank too much. Tons of traffic violations. I bailed him out of jail once in respect of his late parents who came to our church every week. Jack never thanked me. Flipped me off and said to stay out of his life. You can show people kindness, but some have the opposite reaction.”
“Huh. I wonder why.”
Daddy finishes his steak and shrugs. “Who knows why, darling. Hopefully, Jack will come around, but he’s not someone I want you near. Associating with him would hurt your brand.”
“It would,” I agree. “I have zero interest in seeing him.”
“Smart girl. I like Gabe. Now there is a man to admire.”
Mother smiles on cue, soft and practiced. The kind that photographs well. Then she finishes her wine and sets the glass down carefully. Already gone in her head.
“Yep. Gabe’s great,” I reply half-heartedly.
I finish my meal and go to bed. When my eyes close, Jack’s sinister grin flashes, his smirk holding a sense of danger. It’s the same smile that made women swoon on the livestream.
Stop thinking of him, Morgan.
Gabe. Think of Gabe.
Frustrated and determined to banish thoughts of Jack, I grab a Bible with the pages cut out that stores my vibrator.
I envision being on my knees for Gabe, holding the first cock I’ve ever seen in person. It was smooth and hard. Velvety soft. Tasted like skin and musk or something. Until he came.
I grimace slightly.
Didn’t like that salty goo.
Focus, Morgan!
Quickly, I press the vibrator to my clit and remember the stuff I liked. The warmth, his fingers in my hair, his soft breaths from the pleasure I gave him. It was kind of empowering to have that effect on a guy.
But what if it was someone else like the guy who helps me with communion? He’s much hotter than Gabe. Or the one who sings in the choir. Hisbaritone voice is so sexy. Or...
An image of a man’s jeans unzipping.
Jack’s.
Mmm. He’s sexy times ten.
I wonder what his length looks like. I want to see it. Feel it.
Gosh darn it. What in the world is wrong with me?
Yet, I close my eyes and much to my dismay, I picture his muscled body over me. That black shirt off. A body I can only imagine. Tattooed arms caging me in. Sculpted biceps I want to feel under my palms. His shaft pressing into me. I bet it feels amazing.
I gasp softly, the sound carries above the vibrator’s hum. Soon, my orgasm claws at the surface as I think of him fully inside of me, our foreheads pressed together. It’s incredibly hot and overwhelming.
