Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
I hope for that guy’s sake, Carmen knows what more is, but the past has shown me, women don’t really know. More is their way of saying, “I have no idea what I want, but I want you to read my fucking mind and give it to me, and once you do, I’ll bitch and say it’s not enough. Then I’ll leave your ass because you couldn’t figure it out.”
Fuck. That. Shit.
Carmen closes the door and, with a not so subtle sway of her hips, plants her ass on the edge of my desk. The desk shakes slightly and my phone falls to the ground, making a shattering sound. Fuck! Please don’t let that be some sort of fucked up omen.
“What do you need?” I give her a look that tells her it better be good, before I stand and walk to where my now broken phone is lying, dead. Picking it up, I chuck it back onto the desk, annoyed as fuck.
“Brian and I broke up.” Carmen gives me her best fuck-me please look, but it does nothing for me.
“Let me guess…He couldn’t give you more,” I say dryly. Of course, the clueless fucking woman she is misses the sarcasm and answers the rhetorical question.
“No, he couldn’t. He didn’t get me. It made me realize how good you and I were together.” Her lips curve into a pout.
“We were good at fucking, Carmen. That’s it.” Yeah, that’s an asshole thing to say, but nobody said I wasn’t an asshole. In the business I’m in, I don’t have time to sugarcoat shit. Annoyed about my phone now out of order, I don’t even pay attention to what she’s saying. I still need to text Logan.
“But maybe…”
I hold my hand up to stop her. “Can you text Logan and tell him to meet me at the bar?”
She frowns but nods.
I open the door so she’ll get the hint. She does, but before she walks through the threshold, she says, “Can we discuss this later?”
I nod, because I don’t want to deal with her right now, and then close and lock my door, following behind her out to the club.
When I get to the bar, I have the bartender get me my usual. He places the glass of Macallan in front of me and I take a sip, the smoothness of the whisky going down my throat and momentarily relaxing me. I turn slightly in my seat to keep a look out for Logan. It’s Thursday night and the club is packed. Some techno bullshit is pulsing through the speakers, and men and women are crammed together on the dance floor practically fucking one another.
Getting an eerie feeling of being watched, my eyes scan the club before locking eyes on a gorgeous woman. In a sexy white dress that goes almost to her knees, she screams innocence, like a damn angel, and fuck if that doesn’t make her that much sexier. More often than not, women think less is more when it comes to a dress, and usually I would agree; however, this woman’s dress leaves everything to the imagination, and yet my dick is begging to come out and play.
Her eyes meet mine, and it’s too dark to tell the color, but they scream sadness. Her whiskey-colored curly hair is long, flowing down her back, and I wonder what it would look like wrapped around my fist while I fuck her from behind. I wouldn’t even need to remove the dress. I could just pull it up to her hips and slide her panties to the side. I bet they’re white like her dress—see-through satin.
I break the connection before my dick bursts through my pants and take another much-needed sip of my drink. I need to focus on the dirty cop situation, not planning how I can sink my cock into this woman’s cunt.
As I set my drink down, warm, delicate hands grab ahold of my neck. A blur of white hits my vision, and I’m shocked as hell to find that the woman I was just fantasizing about is pulling me in for a kiss—her lips are as warm, soft, and plump as I imagined. At first, I freeze up. Is she a fucking angel? Have I died and somehow made it to heaven? Then I laugh to myself because there’s no way my ass is going to heaven, and if I’m honest, I don’t think I’d want to.
Her hands glide up and around my neck and it hits me, I’m just sitting here. My lips curve around hers and my tongue pushes through her luscious lips. Our tongues dance around one another, and fuck if she doesn’t taste as sweet and innocent as she looks.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her into me, getting lost in this moment—in this woman. Gripping her hips, I lift and place her onto the bar top, not giving a fuck that the place is filled with hundreds of patrons. Our kiss doesn’t slow down, but instead deepens, as I part her legs slightly and stand between them. I run my hands down her hips and end on her ass, squeezing lightly as she snakes her sexy legs around my waist and I pull her hot cunt into my stomach.