Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
He curled his finger inside her, pressing against the spot only he’d ever found.
She moaned as her body began to shake and contract, her orgasm exploding without warning, taking her up and over. Sparkles flickered behind her eyes; warmth and sensation took her body over. By the time she came back to earth, Grey was propped on an elbow, his gorgeous face staring into hers.
“You’re fucking gorgeous when you climax. But you’re even more beautiful when you make me come.”
A hot flush stained her cheeks, and she couldn’t find the words to respond.
“I’m definitely more relaxed now,” he said, speaking when she didn’t.
“Good.” She closed her eyes and realized her headache was gone. Maybe she’d found a cure, she thought, unable to hold back a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“I think orgasms are the cure for migraines,” she said, still giggling.
He grinned. “Happy to oblige any time.”
She ran a hand through his mussed hair. “So what are you going to do about the problem with Simon?” she asked, hesitant to bring up the situation but knowing there was no way he’d put it out of his head completely.
He blew out a long breath. “Refrain from killing him and wait to hear from your brother. I need to prove I wrote those lyrics, and only Mills’s widow can verify my claim.”
As if on cue, his cell rang, a muted sound from his pants in the other room. He shot her a regretful look and rose from the bed. She couldn’t help but stare at his gorgeous, tight ass as he headed into the den for his phone.
Too soon he disappeared from sight. He returned, talking as he walked in and stood beside the bed.
This time her gaze fell to his strong thighs and the semihard erection. He glared at her as he spoke, a silent warning to stop distracting him. She grinned and rose from the bed, looking for her shorts.
“So that’s it? She’s out of the country with no forwarding information?” he asked, his frustration clear.
She pulled on her panties and shorts, snapping them.
“Yes. I know you’re still looking. Thanks and keep me posted.” Grey hit end and tossed his phone onto the bed.
“Dead end?” she asked.
“For now. Tyler said they’re still trying to find her. Neighbors and friends said she went into seclusion after her husband’s death.”
“But she has to surface some time. Mail, bills, things still need attending to,” Avery said. “Have faith in Tyler and whoever he put on her trail.”
“I will.” He’d retrieved a pair of sweats from a drawer and pulled them on, covering up Avery’s favorite view before turning toward her. “I’m sorry for why you’re here,” he said. “But I’m damned glad you are.”
“Me too,” she murmured and was surprised to realize she meant it, her fears and objections fading with each passing day.
* * *
A few days later, Tyler called Grey and asked to see him at the office regarding his investigation into Mills’s widow. Grey was pumped that Tyler had information already.
Avery would have loved to go along, but she’d had a meeting scheduled with Dr. McCann at the hospital, and afterward, she’d promised Ella, who was returning from her trip, that she would pick her up from the airport, so Grey headed over alone.
No sooner had he walked into the man’s office than he was ambushed. Both Tyler and Scott Dare awaited him, and though he wanted to believe it was because they were co-owners of Double Down Security, he braced himself for them to gang up on him about leaving Avery. Which wouldn’t be fucking happening.
“Gentlemen,” he said as politely as he could manage, his hands in tight fists, his muscles strained.
“Have you seen the morning paper?” Tyler asked without preamble.
“Online or print,” Scott added. “Either one will do.”
Neither man seemed pleased, and Grey grew even more agitated. “No.”
Tyler walked around to the big screen on his desk and turned it to face him. “Someone’s playing dirty.”
Grey skimmed a variety of headlines that had been pulled up on all the gossip sites and online newspapers with Grey’s name jumping out from them.
Tyler zeroed in on one article and pulled it up for reading. Grey stalked over. Bracing his arms on the desk, he leaned down and skimmed long enough to get the gist. Allegations and speculation that Grey Kingston hadn’t written or even cowritten songs on his famous collaboration with Alden Mills. And if he hadn’t written those, what had he really contributed to Tangled Royal?
Grey saw red. If Simon were in front of him, he’d take a swing first, no questions asked.
“Breathe out,” Scott told him.
Grey listened, pulling in much-needed air. “Is that why you called me over? To show me my manager’s effectively killing any kind of writing career before it starts?”
“No, we’re calling you to tell you we found the widow,” Scott said.