Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 147136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 736(@200wpm)___ 589(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Her long blond hair was haphazardly pulled back into a loose pony, with several pieces falling onto her shoulders and curling there.
She looked unkempt and exhausted, but still unbelievably gorgeous, because she always looked unbelievably gorgeous no matter how unkempt or exhausted she was.
Tori was a natural stunner and the definition of small-town beauty queen. She grew up in the pageant circuit, won every competition she ever entered without even caring enough about them to try, it was all her mother’s doing, putting her in those pageants and exploiting her daughter’s beauty, and Tori went through the motions to make her mother happy, but that didn’t mean Tori didn’t know when to put her foot down and that occurred when she was approached by some agency to do shampoo commercials when she was fourteen.
My best friend wasn’t interested in the kind of attention appearing in a shampoo commercial would bring a fourteen-year-old who had developed a lot earlier than the rest of her peers.
So that offer was the end of Tori’s pageant days and, subsequently, the beginning of her mother’s descent into the world of plastic surgery.
If her daughter wasn’t going to bring her attention, Mrs. Rivera would find her own way to grab it.
I watched another strand of hair fall out of Tori’s messy yet still utterly perfect pony.
I imagined after she destroyed God knows how many breakables in the house, she probably tossed about in her bed, praying for sleep and dreams involving Wes’s unfortunate but highly deserved demise.
Bastard.
Keeping her eyes on her phone, Tori shook her head then finally spoke.
“He probably won’t answer you. That’s his thing. But whatever. Ready? It’s 919-555-6871.”
I opened up the keypad on my phone and moved my thumb furiously over the numbers.
He would answer. I’d hit Redial until my fingers bled if needed.
I placed the phone to my ear and waited.
I felt anxious and slightly dizzy. My pulse was racing. I knew I probably needed to sit down, take a breath, but the second that motherfucker’s deep voice seeped into my ear with a tired yet undeniably sexy “yeah,” which pissed me off to no end seeing as I hated this man with every fiber of my being and had no business thinking his “yeahs” were sexy, I was on high alert and once again found myself pacing the room like a strung-out junkie.
“You,” I growled, voice vibrating low and sore in my throat. “Stupid, worthless piece of dog shit.”
Tori gasped behind me.
“Excuse me?” Wes sounded put off. “What the fuck—”
“Who the hell do you think you are, huh? And in what universe is a douche bag tool like you able to bag a wife? Is she also a fucking idiot?”
I heard his heavy breathing on the other line, but nothing else. His silence boiled my blood.
“Hello! Remove the dildo from your mouth and fucking speak!”
I spun around, shocked at my own coarse words, and looked up at Tori, curious to see her reaction.
She stood frozen between the couch and the wall, her eyes swollen and red from her earlier tears, doubled in size now that I’d let my mouth loose on this dipshit.
A light, amused chuckle hissed in my ear.
I pulled in a breath through my nose.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled. “Think you might have the wrong number, Wild. I don’t normally suck on dildos after six o’clock on Tuesdays.”
I blinked at the floor.
Wild?
Was he making fun of me?
He was. He was making a joke, out of me, out of this, out of my best friend’s pain.
I flattened a hand to my chest, feigning regret.
“Oh, I am so, so sorry. I forgot. You’re into ass play. Hard and deep, right? Tori told me all about it. My mistake. Is that something your wife enjoys? Do you take turns fucking each other?”
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You serious?”
“You hurt her,” I bit out through clenched teeth. “You hurt my best friend. And you better pray to the God of assholes like you that I don’t ever see your ugly, motherfucking face. Jail doesn’t scare me, loser. I will cut your dick off and make you eat it in front of your mother.”
He laughed again, only this time it was bold and straight from his belly. One of those laughs I knew had his head thrown back and tears brimming his eyes.
My feet stuck to the carpet. The hand at my side curled into a tight fist with nails threatening to break skin.
“You’re …wow,” he said, his voice floating with another soft laugh. “Damn. Just slow down a minute, all right? Quit yelling for a second.” He cleared his throat. I heard the creak of the mattress. “Look, I’m not going to deny that I partake in a little ass play on occasion, but no joke, I’m the one delivering it. There is no other scenario. As for my dick? I really need him to stay attached. We’re close. You get me?”