sneakers, I wished she would wear shoes with more support.
She walked through the family room into her bedroom. I watched her through the open bedroom door as she unbuttoned her black trousers and let them fall to the floor. Pulling her shirt over her head, she dropped it on the floor as well. I never liked to see her display such sloth. However, this time, I couldn’t help but smile when I saw the strappy lines of a red thong wrapping around her hips.
“I knew you weren’t a dirty girl, Gia,” I murmured, pleased to see she was, in fact, wearing underwear. Scarlett Johansson would be proud. “I guess I can forgive you just this once for leaving your clothes on the floor. Besides, I know you’ll pick them up later.”
I began to stroke myself, anticipating what I knew would come next. She would disappear into the bathroom, then reappear wearing pink shorts and a tank top. If it was winter, she’d be wearing purple flannel pants with the same tank top.
Thankfully, it wasn’t winter.
Pajama shorts hugging my girls’ hips was always a treat—especially when she sat on the couch with her legs bent and ankles crossed as she watched reruns of Friends. What did kids call that sitting position nowadays? Apparently, it was no longer PC to say someone was sitting Indian style. All I knew was, whenever my girl sat that way, I was able to justify the cost of the Nikon. Just as I predicted, she went into the bathroom and reemerged a few minutes later, wearing my favorite little pink shorts.
“That’s it, Gia. Now sit down on the couch. Go ahead and bite the sparkly polish off your fingernails. Yes, it’s a gross habit, but we can work on that later as long as you cross your legs just the way I like. Go on now…”
Through the binoculars, I watched as she picked up the television remote. The pinky finger on her left hand went to her mouth while the thumb on her right hand pressed down on the remote-control buttons. She channel surfed for what seemed like eons.
Click, click, click.
“I don’t know why you bother, Gia. Let’s get real. We both know Ross & Rachel always win.”
After a few minutes of futile searching, Friends appeared on the television. I was right again. I saw her smile, and I smiled, too. I knew she was probably giggling that adorable little giggle over something Chandler had said. I knew her so well, it was almost scary.
Pulling her knees up, she let them fall to the side and crossed her ankles. The shorts naturally parted to the side, giving me a small peek at naked lips and light brown curls.
“Criss-cross applesauce! That’s what it is!” It was a stupid fucking name, but I didn’t dwell on it, too busy wondering how loud my girl would scream when she orgasmed for me for the first time. Picking up the Nikon, I zoomed in on the area between her legs. “Good girl. Stay sitting just like that.”
I snapped a few pictures, then went back to using the binoculars. Leaning back in the chair, I squeezed my cock tighter and imagined it was my girl’s mouth, sucking me dry.
CONTINUE READING
FORBIDDEN LOVE
A Black Rose Collection Novel
by Elizabeth Knox
PROLOGUE
“My heart is so tired.”
~ Markus Zuzak
Caprice
My father has done a lot of things to me, things that I can’t ever quite understand. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he doesn’t give a damn about me. I’m only one thing for him – a tool. The only value I have is in the fact that I’m a woman. There is nothing else for me besides whoever it is that he tries to pawn me off too. My father had no problem tossing me in the direction of his business associates before. I was their small treat after he closed a deal, or maybe I was part of the deal. Some days I think about it and then I realize I don’t think I’ll ever know.
My brothers will have the privilege of inheriting the mafia after he dies. Although I do wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse. My bet is on the latter.
It’s obvious that I’m not a fan of my famiglia. They may be my blood, but they don’t treat me like family. My brothers treat me the same as our father does. When it comes to my mother, she barely looks at me. I think that’s because she’s too ashamed