Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I stare at her for a moment, head tilted. “Would you rather I not tell you? Let you guess the dress code?”
She wilts slightly. “Fine. I’ll be ready by seven. Does that work?”
“Works perfect. See you tonight, darling.”
She rolls her eyes and storms off.
Fiona, my wife, has a temper.
I head into the office. For a while, I can lose myself in work, but around midday I shoot Ford and Carmine a text, unwilling to leave this evening entirely to chance.
Gareth: Hey boys, listen up, I’m bringing someone to dinner at the Oak Club tonight. Don’t freak out.
Ford: Sorry, what now? You’re bringing a date?
Gareth: Yes, something like that.
Carmine: Wow. Fuck. But what does something like that mean, exactly?
Gareth: I’ll explain tonight.
Ford: Mysterious.
Carmine: Typical lawyer bullshit. Explain now.
Gareth: Her name is Fiona, she used to be my legal assistant, but now we’re in an arrangement. I’ll give details later.
Carmine: Arrangement?? What the fuck?
Ford: Is this an escort situation? Are you Pretty Womaning this girl? If she’s an escort, just say so, man. Nobody cares who you’re fucking.
Carmine: Even if you’re paying her.
Gareth: She’s not an escort. Enough with the jokes.
Carmine: Bro, you can’t message us about some arrangement and not expect jokes. Seriously, what’s the deal here? Should we be concerned?
I lean back, considering. Should they worry? Probably—I’m in a bad position, but it’s one I took on myself, and I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think I could handle it.
Telling them is a risk. Carmine has connections to the Crowley family. They’re in the same line of business with the same friends in common. But I can’t keep Fiona from my closest friends and still think I can pull this off. I’m not going to lie to them, since they’ll see through it immediately, which means bringing them in on the scam.
Just them though. Not their wives. If Carmine wants to tell Brice, and Ford wants to tell Kat, that’s on them.
Gareth: No worries. I’ll explain later.
I turn my phone off and spend the rest of the afternoon trying to work. It goes about as well as expected, and at five, I head straight to the apartment. I shower, get changed into something fresh but still formal, and walk into the kitchen, expecting to have to wait for Fiona.
Instead, she’s standing near the windows, scrolling through her phone.
Holy fucking shit.
I stand total still. Captivated. Entranced. She’s in a black dress, almost entirely backless, showing off her smooth skin. Her muscles move as she glances over her shoulder, her hair down and swept forward, eye makeup dark, making her light eyes practically glow.
She looks incredible. Absolutely fucking incredible. A slit up one leg shows off thigh, and the low-cut front shows off her unreal tits. I lick my lips, unable to help myself. I’m tempted to drag her back into my room and claim her, leave my mark on her. Spank her ass raw and pink. Kiss her throat until I leave hickeys all down her neck.
“How’s this?” she asks, a little smile on her face.
And she fucking knows.
God damn, the girl knows what she looks like.
“You look perfect,” I say, and I mean it.
Maybe she wants to rub what I said in my face, but instead, her cheeks turn red. She lowers her phone, facing me. “Really? You think so? This isn’t too much?”
“You look incredible.” I walk toward her, heart racing. God damn, what am I doing right now? But I don’t stop. I keep going, closer and closer. She backs up against the windows, breathing fast, staring into my eyes. “Absolutely perfect. I mean it, Fiona.”
“You don’t think I’m showing off?” A quirk of her lips.
“You are absolutely showing off, and I can’t get enough.” My eyes rake down her body again. “I’m going to have the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm tonight.”
She chews her lip and puts a hand on my chest. “I’m still pissed at you. I didn’t like that comment you made at the climbing gym.”
“I know you didn’t. I wasn’t trying to be a dick.”
“You don’t get to control what I wear. You don’t get to judge it, either.”
“Fiona, you can wear a loincloth and still look fucking amazing. There’s no judgment. Only appreciation.”
She smiles. Just a little bit. “God, you’re an asshole. You’d love it if I wore just a loincloth, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Come on. We should go before you do something stupid.”
“Like what?”
“Try to break the no-sex clause.” She slips past me, heading to the door.
I stare at her ass. “I’m tempted.”
“Go ahead and try. You definitely could use a little check on your ego.”
I laugh, unable to help myself. The girl is a terror. A monster.
And I love it.
Chapter 17
Gareth
The Oak Club is the most exclusive invitation-only club on the planet. More exclusive than Bohemian Grove. More exclusive than the nuclear bunkers under the White House. It sits at the end of a long, private driveway, hidden behind high concrete walls lined with crushed glass and dotted by security cameras. Men in dark suits wander the scrubby grounds between the public world and the private oasis beyond. The scrubland gives way to a gorgeous ocean of green grass, shrubs, flowers, and trees, with the club itself in the center of all that gorgeously manicured plant life.