Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“He’s Teddy,” he said with a shrug.
Teddy was closer with the OG guys than the rest of us, but he came from money, and only managed to acquire more of it throughout his life. The only reason he’d ever gotten to know the club was back before it was a club, and he’d been passed out in the back of a car that Huck and the guys had jacked.
“Does he come around often?” I asked.
“Every couple weeks or so. I don’t know. He takes me places.”
Because Arty didn’t drive. I didn’t know if he had a license or not, just knew that he didn’t have a car. And when he hardly left his apartment, I guess it made sense not to, even if he could drive.
There was a ding on Arty’s computer.
And just like that, I lost him.
The rest of the sandwich went uneaten, but I left it with him when I said I was going to pop out for a bit, then come back to see if he had anything for me.
When I did, I’d get rid of the sandwich.
No more festering fucking foods.
I texted Teddy while I was walking down the street, asking if he knew of any cleaning companies that would handle working on Arty’s place while he was in it.
I’d like to claim that it was unintentional, that I was just… taking a walk and wound up there.
But that would be complete and utter bullshit.
I intentionally walked in that direction, retracing the steps I’d taken the night after the club.
Because something had been niggling at me the more I thought about it.
That she didn’t have enough time to pick a lock before I saw her. Not even if she was really fucking good at it.
But she would have had time to slip a key into a lock and turn it.
I tried to keep my pace casual as I passed, eyes forward, knowing that the window or the office that mirrored back to me my likeness was probably one-sided. And I didn’t want her to spook before I could at least make it inside.
I pushed the door open, and was met almost instantly with a brighter version of the room I’d fucked the woman in. The dark walls, the black decor, and the slightly out of place brightly colored details on the top of the sole desk in the place.
Behind that desk wasn’t my mystery woman, and I tried like hell not to feel deflated by that.
This woman was objectively just as pretty, but in an entirely different way. Short, slight, with a chest that was pushing against the confines of her brightly colored sundress. Her hair was strawberry blonde and just as vibrant.
She was the antithesis to everything else in the office.
“Can I help you?” she asked, tone bright, but I didn’t miss the way she’d stiffened, the nervous way she was eyeing me up.
And, yeah, I got that.
I was a big guy.
She seemed to be alone in the office.
There was the threat of danger there.
“Yeah, actually,” I said, nodding, but not approaching, not wanting to make her anymore uncomfortable. “I’m looking for someone I thought worked here,” I said. “She’s—“
“Either Binx has learned how to open packaging, or someone is going to need to answer for my cheddar popcorn being all gone,” a voice said, moving closer. A familiar voice. Even if I’d hardly heard it say anything at all to me that didn’t involve asking me to fuck her harder, or begging me not to stop. “I am in a… what the fuck?” she griped as she walked into the office, holding a—presumably empty—black bag of cheddar popcorn.
The woman at the desk’s gaze moved between the two of us several times as her hand slipped, sliding open a drawer.
“It’s okay, Josie” my mystery woman said to the other one. “You don’t have to tase him. Yet,” she added, eyes boring into me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask the same thing. Since the last time we were here, you claimed we were breaking and entering.”
“I…” she started, searching for a lie to feed me.
“I had a feeling, though, that no matter how good you might be, you couldn’t pick a lock that quickly. So I came to see if my hunch was right.”
“Wow. Stalker much?” she asked, raising her brows at me.
“I think you’re the one who tracked me down to my clubhouse just so you could get a quick fuck again, then ran out before I could get back from the bathroom.”
“What? Are you butt-hurt that I left? Get real,” she said, but I got the feeling she was putting on an act. “I mean, men can use and discard women left and right, but the second a woman tries to play that game, someone’s in their feels about it and is showing up at a woman’s work like a complete creep.”