Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Barrett growled out a vicious curse.
“Shut the fuck up and help me think of something to do,” Barrett snapped. “I told the boss that I had a new mode of transportation. He said if I keep up the good work, I’ll be able to become one of his lieutenants. I can’t fuck this up!”
“We’re not going to fuck this up,” Jensen announced. “Chill the fuck out and go the fuck back to the reunion. Go check out my ex and daydream about her hot, tight pussy like you used to.”
“I think she traded up with that big man,” Barrett surmised. “She’s still hot as fuck, but it seems to me that she has something now that won’t have her looking at you twice again. You fucked up getting rid of her.”
“I got ticked off that she wanted to be more than what I was willing to give her at the time,” Jensen boasted. “Got fucking old having her call me day in and day out wondering where I was. She was like my mother, only hotter and willing to give me head.”
“Mother and giving head should not be in the same sentence, dude,” Barrett supplied.
I had to say, I never thought I’d be agreeing with anything that man ever said, but in this instance, I felt he was right.
Those two words should never be in the same vicinity of each other.
Dean bent down and scooped up my panties, then went down to one knee to offer them up to me to thread my feet through.
Knowing I would make a colossal mess, I put first one foot, and then the other into the holes.
Dean lifted them up until they were snugly around my hips.
He crowded me close, his eyes searching mine to make sure I was okay.
Once he’d ascertained the state of my mental health, he walked over to my shoes and gathered them up in his hands.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jensen groaned. “Let’s go before I lose the will to live.”
Barrett chuckled and I heard the bathroom door open and close.
Silence followed their leaving, and I wondered if I should chance opening the door or not.
Dean caught my arm before I could make it even a foot in the direction of the door, shaking his head no.
I froze, wondering if he’d noticed something I hadn’t, but he only dropped back down to his knee, and slipped my feet into my shoes.
First one foot, followed by the other.
He also had no trouble whatsoever with the latch, the big showoff.
Once both shoes were securely on my feet, he stood, making sure to run his large, rough hands from the bottoms of my ankles, up past my ass, over my hips, stopping at my ribs.
“Ready?” He lifted a brow.
I nodded.
“I think we have plenty enough to go on today. You want to leave?” He sounded almost hopeful.
I nodded my head vigorously.
“Yes, I most certainly want to leave!” I agreed a little bit too excitedly.
A grin tilted up the corner of his mouth.
“We’ll stop by your brother’s on the way home, okay?” He grimaced.
A nod in my direction had him walking to the stall door and sliding the lock to the side.
The door eased open, and Dean dragged me directly out the bathroom door and out into the shadowed hallway.
We were all the way outside, completely ignoring what sounded like Laney’s voice talking about the most popular blah-blah-blah of 2006.
The sound of N’Sync played in the background while she spoke, and despite my best efforts, by the time we were back in Dean’s truck, I was singing the damn song.
He gave me a look that clearly said only one thing, and I laughed at him.
“I can’t help it if they were my favorite band of my high school years,” I explained to him. “You’ll just have to deal with it.”
He grinned and flipped the station in his truck, and I gasped.
The 90s on Channel 9 was the one he’d chosen, and none other than N’Sync was playing.
“I think I love you,” I teased, reaching forward to turn the radio up.
Meaning I missed the look of utter pleasure that washed over his features at hearing those words fall from my lips.
What had come out as a joke on my part had clearly been something real to him.
“Do you think that Joseph has anything to do with those two?” I asked him.
Dean’s brow furrowed in concentration.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “At first, yes, but the more I dissect what we heard of the encounter, the more I’m leaning in the direction of no.”
“Why?” I pushed.
“You can’t fake the happiness he felt when he saw you,” he said. “And his wife was also solid. People that solid don’t do stupid stuff that’ll threaten their business. What I think is that Joe has no idea what those other two are involved in, and that whatever’s going on between him and Barrett, as far as Joe knows, is on the up and up.”