Page 39 of Mr. Edwards

“I’ve known you what? Five minutes.”

“You’ve known me more than five minutes, Carlee. Technically this is our third date.” Her eyes widen. I count them down on my fingers before she has a chance to dispute me. “One: the club where we met. Two: the pizzeria, and this moment makes three.”

“Whatever,” she says rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling as she does it. “That still doesn’t make me yours. I told you I’m a no-strings kind of girl.”

“I hate to disappoint you, sweetheart, but we have strings.” I gesture back and forth between us with my hand.

Her lips turn down into a frown as she lifts her hand in the air, spreading her pointer and middle fingers into a V before snapping them closed to mirror a pair of scissors. I shake my head because I’ve only been here a few minutes and she’s already starting to piss me off.

Newsflash, our strings cannot be cut with imaginary scissors.

She’s my girl whether she likes it or not.

I take a deep breath trying to calm myself before I say something I’ll regret.

“I’m serious about the money, Carlee,” I state, changing the subject. “If you need anything all you have to do is ask.”

I can remember when my mom relied on coupons,and I hate to think that Carlee might be in the same position.

“Like I said, I’m good. There’s nothing wrong with being frugal. I’ve been like this my entire life.” She pauses for a moment and shrugs. “I guess you can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you’ll never take the trailer park out of the girl.”

“You grew up in a trailer park?” I ask surprised. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

I don’t care where she’s from, or how much money she has for that matter. She could live in a cardboard box in a dingy alley and I’d still want her. My family struggled a lot after my father died. I may be worth millions now, but I know firsthand what hardship looks like.

She straightens her spine and pulls back her shoulders, showing both her strength and fire. Tough times build character, and this woman has a plentitude.

“Having money doesn’t necessarily make you a good person you know.”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” I reply. “I’m around wealthy people daily, and the majority of them are assholes.”

“Like your douchey friend?”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “You mean Ashton? No, he’s one of the good ones.”

“Wow,” she says, taking the album out of my hands and carefully placing it on the small coffee table behind me. “You must know some pretty sucky people then.”

I slide my arms around her waist, drawing her closer. “I know this girl who sucks…” I clear my throat before continuing. “…like a champ.”

Her eyes light up with mischief. “Tell me more about her.”

“Well,” I say, tightening my hold. “Jesus… where do I start.” I throw my head back and groan. “Just thinking about her gives me a boner.”

She moves her hand between us, palming my dick through my jeans. “I can tell,” she declares as I tilt my head forward to rain kisses along her jawline. “She must be pretty hot if just thinking about her does this to you.”

“You have no idea… she’s sizzling. A walking fucking wet dream.” I run my nose up the side of her neck before sucking her earlobe into my mouth, softly biting down on it. “She smells amazing too… good enough to eat.”

“Is this the one with the black hair you were telling me about?”

I draw back for a moment, studying her. It takes me a few seconds to realize what she’s talking about.Our text messages. “No, this one is new. She’s a blonde, and sexy as fuck. She recently made it to the top of my list… she bumped all those other bitches off.”

“Wow,” she says as her smile grows. “The top, hey? She must be good.”

“Best I’ve ever had,” I reply without missing a beat because it’s the truth.

“Is she saved under ‘Blonde who sucks cock like a champ’ now?”

“No, this one needed something special.”