Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Which happened to be when the bathroom door opened.
“Hey, man. Get a fuckin’ room,” the man said as he went to the opposite side of the room to pee.
I closed my eyes as I tried to find even a smidgeon of embarrassment and found none because my orgasm was ongoing. It felt like it was never going to end.
The man’s mouth found mine once again, then he was groaning into it as his thrusts grew
The toilet flushed.
The door closed.
And still, I was coming.
Only when we were both panting into each other’s mouths a few long seconds later did I finally open my eyes and realize what I’d done.
Holy shit.
Was that what it was all about?
Was that what I’d been missing my entire life?
Did I want to go back to normal after that?
I didn’t think so.
Which was why I decided to ask for his name again.
“Still no name?” I teased, hoping he’d give it to me.
“No, mama.” He tucked himself away and tossed the used condom into the trash can.
I pulled out a few paper towels and covered it up before saying, “Okay, Daddy.”
His eyes flamed. “Don’t…”
The bathroom door opened again, and an old man this time shuffled his way inside, completely oblivious to the two of us.
I slipped out before he could disappoint me by opening his mouth again.
I slipped into my own bathroom and cleaned up, only realizing when I was finished using the toilet that I’d left my panties on the floor in the men’s bathroom.
Fuck.
After washing my hands, I headed out to place my order, very aware of the draft that I could feel on my bare ass.
Luckily, the dress was long enough that there would be no accidental slips.
When I ordered my food, I took a surreptitious look around and didn’t spot the man anywhere.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I moved to the other side of the building and laid a few napkins down on the booth before taking my seat.
When I did, my gaze automatically went to the window and to the parking lot beyond.
That was when I realized something.
Something was going on in the parking lot beyond the Whataburger, and that something was big.
And centered on my car.
I pulled out my phone and placed the only call that I would make in a situation like this.
“Hey,” I said to my brother when he answered, my heart pounding. “Can you come back?”
He sighed. “What happened?”
I didn’t really have a good way to say it but…
“My car is surrounded by police tape that says ‘DO NOT CROSS’ and there are multiple cop cars surrounding it. Also, there are five police officers standing at the edge talking.” I felt my stomach roil.
One of those police officers being the man I’d just fucked in the Whataburger bathroom…
“I’ll be right there.” He sounded much less annoyed now. “I’m calling my lawyer, too. Don’t do a fucking thing until I get there.”
I didn’t have to wait long.
I was halfway through my honey butter biscuit when Shasha came through the doors.
He walked directly to me and placed his hand on my shoulder.
I’d just opened my mouth to ask him “what now” when another person came from behind him and stopped to where she could see out the window beyond my table.
Shasha and the woman studied the scene in front of them.
“Who’s that?” the lawyer asked. “The guy in the jeans and the black t-shirt with the combat boots on. He looks to be the one in charge.”
My head whipped around and sure enough, there was a man fitting that description out there.
Shasha turned to glance in the direction that Elianora Bates was looking and said, “That’s Detective Haze Hopkins. Stay the fuck away from him.”
My belly fluttered.
So I finally had a full name to go with the face.
Haze Hopkins.
And he was a detective.
Of course he was.
I took the last bite of my biscuit and threw my trash away.
When I was done, Shasha and Elianora Bates walked with me toward the crowd.
We were noticed within seconds.
But it didn’t come as a surprise that the first man to notice us was the detective.
“What’s going on?” I asked quietly.
Feeling offended is a fucking choice. The moment you let somebody else’s words upset you, you’ve let them defeat you. And who the fuck wants to lose a battle of opinion?
—Haze to John
HAZE
“Where’s my chicken biscuit, motherfucker?”
John’s words had me glancing up, surprised to find that I’d made it the entire length of the lot without realizing.
“They stopped serving breakfast,” I lied.
They served breakfast until ten thirty, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Damn,” he grumbled. “I was really looking forward to it, too.”
I shrugged, hoping that he’d let it go.
If he wanted to, he could figure out what I’d just done in a matter of moments.
He knew the signs.
Hell, we’d been each other’s wingman more times than I could count.