Commitment to Love – Chasing Love Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
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“It would be better if you did this another time,” the guard said.

“I need to do it now.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” Annoyance dotted each word. “Is this how you talk to Mr. Stone?”

He looked away. “Mr. Stone will fire me if I get you harmed.”

“Then let’s make sure that I’m safe.”

He sighed. “I’m unable to do that, if you don’t listen to me.”

“I’m not completely helpless.” I tapped my hip. I wore a heavy duty wilderness belt and holster with my jeans and shirt which displayed the Sesame Street gang at the bar telling dirty jokes. The funny tee covered the holster and belt enough, but not entirely. Anyone with sense would get that I was packing.

He didn’t even glance at where I kept my gun. “I understand that you’re not helpless, but you’re going to have to turn around and ask your driver to take you to the scheduled activity. I cannot let you go inside.”

“I’m going inside, and you and your three guys over there in the car can watch my back in there. Not to mention the fact that if something happens, I’m more than prepared. This holster allows me to naturally press the release, when I pull my firearm out in a quick-draw self-defense scenario.”

“Quick-draw self-defense scenario?” His expression shifted to worried.

“I’ve been taking a class at the gun range.”

“I’m aware of that, but I still don’t think you should—”

“What’s your name?”

“Martin.”

“Great name.” I winked at him. “Martin, trust me on this. The surprise is going to blow Chase’s mind. He may be upset if you spoil this for him. And besides, I’ve purchased everything.”

Vivian and I had picked out all of the costumes. Diamonds served as the theme. Those gems sparkled over the background dancers’ corsets and tiny G-strings. Diamonds even covered the tips of their nine-inch heels.

I would wear an outfit made from several straps of rubies. They would wrap around my thighs, breasts, behind, and the space between my legs, revealing so much and hiding very little. Red nine-inch heels went with the outfit. Rubies decorated the points. A makeup artist and hair stylist were supposed to show up later that night for the true performance.

“Could you let me know what you’re going to do?” Martin folded the paper back. “Maybe if I understand, I can give you permission in other ways.”

“Listen.” I shook my head. “I hate to do this to you, buddy, but I don’t need your permission. But I will explain the plan. I’m going to do a dance routine for Mr. Stone tonight at eight.”

Wrinkles formed around Martin’s forehead as he unfolded the paper again.

“Don’t bother looking at the schedule,” I said. “It’s not on there.”

He muttered a curse word.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need these two hours to practice the routine and then later tonight, we were due to go to a play, but that was just a lie to have him ready for that time.”

“Does anyone know about these details?” Martin asked.

“Only Vivian and my driver as well as all of the people in the performance with me.”

“And the owner?” Martin asked.

“Yes.”

He mumbled another curse word. I thought it might have been shit buckets, but wasn’t sure. He dove his hand into his pockets and pulled out his phone. When he pressed several buttons, he placed it on his ear. “We’ve got several serious changes to the plans. I need as many people as possible over to the Doll House, immediately. I’ll send the address at the end of this phone call.”

I gave him a thumbs up.

He responded with a frown.

Well, we can’t all be friends.

I headed into the club without Martin, confidant that he’d follow me in as soon as he finished the phone call.

I pushed through the doors. Thankfully, no cigarette smoke hit me, just the lush scent of perfumed women. Five dancers stretched on the stage and talked to each other. Most lay on the floor touching their toes as they wore yoga pants and tiny spaghetti-strapped tops.

A tall girl with long blonde hair and red shorts and a matching shirt waved me over. “Are you Jasmine?”

“Yes.” I strolled to the stage, excited about the performance.

And then gun shots boomed outside.

There was no mistaking it. Tires screeched. Men yelled. Women screamed. All of this outside. And inside of the club, I stood frozen with my hands out to their sides.

Benny.

The dancers snapped their faces from side to side as if wondering what the other girls were thinking and wanted to do.

“Were those gun shots?” The blonde turned to the other girls. “It’s twelve in the afternoon. Why would there be gunshots outside?”

My heart hammered in my chest. The whole thing could be a coincidence, but with the way my month had been going, I needed to treat everything like an emergency.



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