Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
My guess? It was because of Banger.
Banger with her beautifully lithe body.
She was average height, but she had a body like a backhoe, or however Sam Hunt said it.
She was all curves. Great breasts, curvy, full hips. Plump lips. Shapely ass. Thighs that were made to grab hold of when you had her wrapped around your waist.
She had long black hair that was straight as a board, but goddamn did she have a lot of it.
Her skin was pasty white with almost Slavic features. I had a Russian aunt on my mom’s side that had the exact same coloring.
But, without asking Banger about her heritage, I could only guess.
Getting anything out of Banger was like asking a cat to cooperate with you.
In the end, she might or might not give you what you wanted, but it would only be after she had it her way first.
“What’s with that look on your face?”
I glanced up to see my very first employee, as well as my head of security, Donnelly, staring at me like I was a weirdo.
“I’m unsure what you speak of,” I lied.
He snorted. “I’m fairly sure you know exactly what I’m speaking of. You’re thinking of Angelina Jolie again, aren’t you?”
Donnelly was convinced that Banger resembled Angelina.
Though, body-wise, she did. Feature-wise she didn’t.
“She could be Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, and you know it.” He read my thoughts.
“I believe that you believe that she could be,” I agreed. “But Angelina and Banger look nothing alike other than their body type and hair color. Their features are nothing alike. Plus, Banger’s much shorter.”
Donnelly rolled his eyes. “It’s the lips, man. She has them big, dick…”
I held up my hand and said, “For the love of God, Donnelly. Don’t.”
His eyes sobered as something behind me caught his gaze.
I looked over my shoulder to see Ashton shuffling out of his office, an empty coffee cup in his hands. “I’ll take care of that while you head out.”
I slapped Donnelly on the back. “I’ll be in town for a few more hours if you need me. I’m eating at Tiddie’s tonight.”
Tiddie’s, the bar that Banger’s dad owned that she worked at from time to time.
“You know,” Donnelly said. “She may not even be there.”
He was right.
She may not.
If she wasn’t, I’d be there just long enough to realize that, then I’d leave.
Which he damn well knew.
“You know what’s hot?” he asked as he walked backward down the hall. “The way she parks her big truck.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You’re such a shit,” I said as I turned my back on his laughter and walked away.
When I arrived at Tiddie’s, it was to find that Banger was, indeed, where I wanted her to be.
Well, not exactly where I wanted her, but she was enough where I wanted her so that I could see her.
And she looked rather pissed.
Gathering my courage—because I was a goddamn bitch when it came to Banger Crest—I walked toward the bar, bypassed her father who was at the end of the bar and went straight to her.
She glanced up from pouring a couple of shots and shot me a small smile.
One that went straight to my heart and lodged there forever.
“Easton,” she said as her gaze went back to the drinks. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Can I get a beer?” I asked.
She set the bottle down and frowned at me. “You sound tired.”
“I’m exhausted,” I admitted the truth.
Her brows rose as if she couldn’t quite believe my statement.
“You never really told me what you do, Easton McKennick,” she murmured as she pulled up a chair from the bar, dragged it around the outside, and then took a seat on it.
That’s when I saw the nasty-looking gash on her thigh.
“I’ll tell you what I do if you tell me how that happened.” I pointed toward the gash.
There were six stitches in the gash, and it looked painful.
“I was unloading a load in Canton yesterday and twisted, catching it on a jagged piece of a crate. Six stitches and my DNA left everywhere,” she teased.
I grimaced. “Do you always do runs that are close to home like that? Or do you ever do any cross-country long hauls?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and jerked her head toward a bottle of beer that she’d placed in front of me at some point while we’d been talking.
Damn, I really hadn’t paid attention if that’d happened without me noticing.
I took a deep pull from the bottle as she said, “I only take short ones in case my dad needs me.”
Then she looked at me with expectation.
I rested my elbows on the table, then went into detail on what I did.
“When I was in the FBI, I worked in cyber crimes for part of my career. Now, I do something similar to that, but I work for large corporations that don’t want to go to the police.” I paused. “Or, if there’s something more delicate that needs to be done, like tracking certain individuals that are doing things online that they shouldn’t.”