Page 9 of My Dirty Father In Law
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” she hisses under her breath. “Harry was nothing like you. Besides, I thought you were going to help me get an OPT assignment so I have two years.”
I shrug.
“I was, but there’s been a slight modification. I don’t give shit away for free, sweetheart, so I want you pregnant in two months while you’re still on your student visa. Then, I’ll get you OPT, and the child can be born here, so he’s American. I’ll even help you naturalize if you give me a baby. See? It all works out.”
Juliette stares at me.
“Two months?” she rage-whispers beneath her breath. “That’s all? It’s not enough time!”
I shrug nonchalantly.
“That’s what’s on the table, sweetheart. Blame the government, not me.”
Two spots of color appear on Juliette’s cheeks as her hands grip into fists.
“Harry was nothing like you,” she spits. “You’re a beast.”
I take the epithet in a stride.
“Harry was nothing like me,” I acknowledge in a smooth tone. “But my son’s gone, and I’m here in his place. So what’s your answer going to be?”
The beautiful French girl jerks back to the coffin, seething so vehemently that I can see her big bosom rise and fall beneath her black dress. Damn, she’s gorgeous with her chestnut curls tied back and fastened with a velvet bow. Her dress is modest, but nothing can hide the ample weight of her breasts, that narrow waist, and those wide hips which are definitely childbearing. Fuck yeah, my guess is that I could get this girl pregnant in a month. Maybe even in one session because she’s so fucking fertile. My cock jerks as I speak again.
“So what’s it going to be?” I query silkily. “I’m waiting.”
This time, Juliette turns to me in slow motion, her hands gripping into fists at her sides. She’s obviously trying not to blow up in front of the crowd at the wake.
“If you must know, I hate you,” she manages through clenched teeth. “But the answer is yes.”
My blue eyes gleam as a smile creeps onto my handsome features.
“That’s what I thought,” I say. “And it’s okay to hate me because soon you’ll be clinging to my shoulders while screaming my name with joy. You’re about to be bred, sweetheart, and you’re going to love it.”
She pauses, stunned.
“I’m going to hate it,” she snarls under her breath. “Every single minute. Every second, in fact.”
I smirk, loving the fight in this sassy wildcat.
“No, you’re going to love it,” I correct gently. “In fact, by the end you’ll be begging me for more. You’ll scream, ‘Mr. Lewis, put it in my ass next! Please, please, please, I need it, unnnh yeah, fuck I love anal sex!’”
My words are so foul, not to mention taboo, that Juliette literally has no reply. She merely stares at me, her red lips opening and closing with shock. Goddamn, what I’d give to see her pursing that plush pout on my shaft, licking up and down while leaving streaks of crimson lipstick on my balls. But what am I waiting for? There’s no need to delay.
“We can use an upstairs bedroom,” I say, already beginning to turn to the hallway to the right. “Let’s go, sweetheart. It’s time.”
“What?” she gasps, turning sheet white. “We’re at your son’s wake, for crying out loud! You want to do it now?”
I wink, beckoning to her subtly.
“Now is as good of a time as any. Like I said, tick tock, tick tock.”
Again, Juliette’s struck speechless. She literally stares at my departing form, her jaw on the ground as I make my way to the darkened hallway. I pause before turning on my heels, waiting in the shadows to see what the beautiful girl will do. To my relief, Juliette begins to follow. Her patent Mary Janes tap behind me as I make my way up the staircase, and even that sound turns me into a fucking horndog because the curvy girl’s about to be defiled ... and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.
6
Juliette
I can’t believe the nerve of this man. At his son’s funeral too! Jordan Lewis wants to impregnate me with guests milling around downstairs, crying into their handkerchiefs while mourning the death of Harry. This man should be ashamed of himself.
