Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Now? Now I’m just fucked as I see her exposed stomach and her legs that go on for days as she stands there looking at me. She holds my stare, she isn’t one to look away. I like that about her.
“I can walk.” She looks toward the club as I push off the car. I hold open her door and she looks to it, then back to me. “Tell me something?” She steps forward and I wait for her to ask. “Do you offer lifts to all the girls?”
“You want me to tell you you’re special?” I ask her. Her lip twitches and she can’t help but smile as she nods her head. “You’re special. Now get in the car—” I pause as she watches me. “Please,” I finish.
She does as I say, careful not to open her legs to me, then looks at me from her seat. “Your momma would be proud.” She reaches for the door, shutting it. Her comment knocks me back. It was obviously a joke, but she’s also right. My mother taught me to open doors for women, to respect them. Even in my line of work the women have to be respected, because if they aren’t, they walk. Just because most think I’m an unfeeling prick doesn’t mean they don’t trust me. They do.
Walking around the car, my cell starts buzzing again. Swearing, I look down to see it’s Echo, still pretending to be away and currently at my Ma’s house. Opening my car door and sliding in, I answer it. It goes through the car system so Elicea will hear everything he’s about to say.
“Company,” I state before he says one word.
“Where?” he asks, knowing better.
“In my car.”
He coughs, then fixes himself. “A girl?” he asks, confused.
He knows I don’t let anyone in my car, I don’t let anyone drive it either. It’s mine.
“Yes,” I answer then start driving the short distance to the club.
“Well, fuck! Never thought I’d see the day. Asshole meet lady. Tell me, lady, how is my asshole treating you? Well, I hope?”
I breathe out a heavy breath knowing exactly how Echo is. He may be more serious than Falcon, but he can also be fucking annoying as well.
“Good, thank you,” she replies as the car slows down when the club comes in sight. Well, a massive warehouse which is technically the club. Mine.
“I can’t believe you let her in your car. Sorry, lady, but my feelings are seriously hurt right now. Does she smell better than me?” he asks.
Elicea giggles next to me and I stop the car to turn to look at her.
“She does.”
Her giggle stops and she looks up. Beautiful eyes stare back at me. What’s behind them? I want to know.
“You sound sick, Creed. You sure you’re okay?”
“Goodbye, Echo,” I reply, but before I can hang up he screams through the car, “I bet her pussy tastes better—” That’s all we hear before I press end, knowing exactly what he’s doing—he’s being a dick.
“My pussy, huh?” she asks smiling at me.
My cock pushes hard against my trousers at her words, my eyes finding their way down to her short skirt. She closes her legs tighter, then I hear the click of my door followed by her perfectly tanned legs getting out of the car and walking away.
I bang my head against the car headrest and call Echo back.
He answers straight away. “Pussy, pussy, pussy.” He huffs then stops. “She still there?”
“No, dickhead.”
I hear him blow out a heavy breath, more than likely he’s smoking.
“D won’t stop calling, it’s getting worse.”
I shake my head. “Of course, it is, you idiot. You run a business, you’re needed.”
“I can’t handle being there right now, or anywhere,” he says with a heavy breath through the cell.
“Why?” I ask him. Yes, she fucked him over but he’s also not telling me something. And he tells me everything.
“Not now.” Then he hangs up on me.
Getting out and walking straight past where Elicea is at the bar, I don’t even glance her way as I make my way to Darby. He’s at his desk like always, he looks up at me then back to whatever he’s writing as I walk in.
“Echo’s back.”
His head shoots up and he sits back in his chair. “Of course, he came to you.” He shakes his head then stands, pushing the seat back. “Where the fuck is he?”
“He needs time.”
“Why?” is all he asks as he comes around the desk, standing in front of me, his hands crossing over his chest. He’s bigger than me, but not by much.
“Fucked if I know, it would have something to do with her.”
He sighs loudly. “This is why we don’t do relationships. It fucks with us. Fucks with our career,” he says dropping his hands from his chest. I don’t say anything back, because even if I did believe what he just said, right now my head’s down the stairs on a very sexy brunette, one I wouldn’t mind getting in trouble for.