Looking for well hung Providence guy

Added: Willaim Rhinehart - Date: 01.02.2022 18:40 - Views: 45135 - Clicks: 1761

Struggling with her father's death, Nina meets Jared Ryel, presumably by chance. However it soon becomes clear that he knows more about her than even close friends. When her father's former associates begin following her in the dark, Nina learns that her father was not the man she thought he was, but a thief who stole from demons. In searching for the truth behind her father's death, she stumbles upon something she never expected, and something Hell wants, that only she holds the key for. Jared risks everything to keep the women he was born to save, by sharing the secret he was sworn to protect.

The average daughter respects her father. She might regard him as her hero, or she may place him so high on a pedestal that no object of her affection could ever compare. To me, my father deserved more than respect, or loyalty, or even love. I had a reverence for him. He was more than Superman; he was God. His verdict was always final and never argued with. Not even death could touch him. I set the phone beside me on the bed, careful to keep my hands from trembling so much that it tumbled to the floor. The past few weeks had been an alternate universe for Looking for well hung Providence guy, as I had been faced with one horrible call after another.

My was the most recently dialed on his cell phone, leaving me with the horrifying task of being the one to break the news to my mother. In his last days, when reports of no improvement were replaced with gentle suggestions to prepare for the inevitable, I was thankful to be at the receiving end of the phone calls. It felt strange to walk across the room and grab my coat and keys.

The tasks seemed too mundane to begin the journey to say goodbye to my father. I lamented the ordinary life that seemed so long ago as I walked out to my car and turned the ignition. My father had risen to the top of the shipping industry ruling with an iron fist, but I knew the gentle side of him. The man that left important meetings to take my trivial phone calls, kissed my scrapes, and rewrote fairytales so that the princess always saved the prince.

Now he lay helpless in his bed, fading away in the vast bedroom he shared with my mother. Our housekeeper, Agatha, greeted me at the front door. You best get upstairs. Agatha took my coat, and then I climbed the stairs, feeling the bile rise higher in my throat with every step. His private nurse brushed past me as I entered the room, and I winced at the sight of him. His face was sallow with a thin sheen of perspiration, and his usually clean shaven jaw was darkened with whiskers that crowded his parched lips. My mother spoke soft, comforting words to him as his chest heaved with every labored breath.

The muted beeps and humming of the pumps and monitors were the background music to my worst nightmare.

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She sighed in understanding and walked toward me, her arm still reaching out in front of her. After a few reluctant steps, I stopped again. Peeling my shoes from the floor, I let her guide me to his bedside. My first instinct was to help him, but the only thing left to do was to wait for his suffering to end.

After watching him struggle for sufficient breath, I leaned down to whisper in his ear. Just rest. Their voices became a stream of humming no louder than the machines attached to my father. He sucked in another breath while I tenderly swept his salt and pepper hair away from his moist brow. My eyes wandered to my mother, who was in silent conversation, searching her face one last time for a of hope.

Seeing the sorrow in her eyes, I looked back to my father and prepared to say goodbye. My eyes closed as the urge to ease his suffering grew insistent. A faltering breath escaped from my chest and I started again. My mouth smiled as my face crumpled around it. He had no more fight left in him. I glanced back to my mother, who watched me with heavy, wet eyes.

He took in another deep breath and slowly exhaled. His life slipped away as the last bit of oxygen left his lungs. The sound reminded me of a tire losing air, slow and level until there was nothing left. His body relaxed, and his eyes became vacant and unfocused. The nurse silenced the solid tone of the heart monitor while I scanned his peaceful face. The realization that my father was gone washed over me in waves.

My insides wrenched, and my arms and legs felt foreign, as if they no longer belonged to me.

Looking for well hung Providence guy

I nodded and smiled, ignoring the tears that spilled over my cheeks. He trusted my words, and so he let go. Thomas touched my shoulder and moved to the head of the bed. Looking down into my hands, I scanned the obituary from the funeral. I grimaced with the recognition that such a short line of ink was meant to ify his life.

The paper fit snugly in the inside pocket of my coat just as the wet sloshing of bus tires approached, slowing to a stop in front of me. The sounds of commuters stepping out onto the sidewalk never Looking for well hung Providence guy. My neighbors had little need for public transportation, specifically so late in the evening. Those that used it at all were the hired service that worked in the colossal residences nearby. The bus driver cleared his throat to get my attention, and when I failed to acknowledge him, the door swept shut.

The air breaks released, and the bus slowly pulled away from the curb. I tried not to think about the day that had just taken place, but my memory became saturated with it. Just as I did in childhood, I rocked back and forth to comfort myself. A frigid breath of air flooded my lungs and my chest heaved, giving way to the sob that had been clawing its way to the surface. I sniffed and shot an annoyed glance to the man settling into the space next to me. He breathed on his hands, rubbed them together and then offered a reassuring grin.

He looked down at his watch and sighed. He pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his black motorcycle jacket and dialed. He greeted someone and then requested a taxi. I peered over at him, immediately suspicious. His blue-grey eyes narrowed as he raised one eyebrow at my expression.

I must have looked like a maniac, and he was reconsidering his offer. I folded my arms, suddenly feeling the discomfort of winter breaking through my coat, seeping into my skin, piercing through to my bones. I had to get back to school; I still had a paper to write. How odd. I glanced at his watch out of the corner of my eye. Definitely not help. He was older than I, though not by more than five or six years.

I wondered if he knew who I was. His cell phone vibrated, and he opened it to read a text message. He opened the door for me, and I scooted over to the farthest end of the seat while he slid in behind the driver. I noted that he was careful not to mention his address, and that struck me as odd.

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I pulled my hand away, noting his exceptionally warm grip. I watched him for a moment, listening to any inner voices that might have sensed danger, but the only feeling that stood out was curiosity. With the realization of his offense, he apologized with a small smile.

I tucked my hair behind my ears and stared out the window. The wind whipped around outside, blowing the collecting flakes across the road like white snakes slithering ahead. I shivered at the image and pulled my coat tighter around me. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he flipped it open once again. The residual frustration from the unwanted caller melted away once our eyes met.

Looking for well hung Providence guy

I looked down, picking at my nails. I waited for the expected pity in his eyes, but there was none. My relief caused me to smile which in turn made a grin turn up one side of his mouth. I noticed then that he had a nice face. It was more than nice, now that it had come to my attention. He was quite attractive, really…. I peeled my eyes from Jared and pointed in the direction of my dorm. The cab pulled in, and Jared automatically stepped out. As soon as his door had shut, mine opened. It went beyond politeness or even sincerity. He spoke the words with conviction. I nodded and sidestepped toward my dorm.

He paused before getting into the cab to smile at me once more, and for the first time in weeks I felt something other than hollow. I watched the cab pull away and then turned against the wind to walk toward Andrews. Once inside my room, I noticed my appearance in the mirror and gasped. Good God, it was no wonder that Jared felt compelled to come to my aide! I looked like a homeless, desperate crack addict overdue for my next fix! My brush ripped through my blonde bob and I pulled my bangs straight back, pinning them away from my face.

I went to the sink and scrubbed away the smeared mascara and streaky foundation. With a frown, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and pressed the speed dial to call my mother. She sighed. Robert could have driven you. Take two of those pills I gave you today, all right?

Looking for well hung Providence guy

My dorm room seemed smaller. The white walls were pitifully empty on my side.

Looking for well hung Providence guy

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Alfred Mansuetti Jr.