Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I call it taking care of myself and chasing my dreams.
-Swayze to Trick when she explains why she likes taking naps
SWAYZE
“Hello?” Trick answered the phone. “Fuck, that’s awesome. Thanks for calling.”
“What?” I asked the moment he hung up.
“Tater made it through the night. As long as all goes well today, we can go pick him up tomorrow.”
I grinned wickedly, but before I could say anything else, his phone rang again.
“Hello?” he repeated his earlier greeting.
He had a droplet of sweat that had started on his throat and slowly started to track its way down the length of his body.
He’d woken me up with his mouth, and we’d spent the next hour in bed, doing very bad things to each other.
I was late for work and didn’t even care.
Thank God I’d given Jayco a key. I’d managed to fire off a text saying I’d be late, and to open without me. It was now lunchtime, and Jayco had already messaged me that he’d gotten everything done for the day that he could, forwarded the calls to his cell phone, and had gone to run errands.
And I didn’t feel bad at all.
I touched the droplet of sweat with the tip of my finger, which was why I felt when the muscles of his chest went suddenly hard and unyielding.
Startled, I looked up at his face to see it ferocious.
“I’ll go check now,” he murmured softly.
Then he was jack-knifing out of the bed and hurrying out of the room.
“Trick, you’re naked!” I called out.
He didn’t slow in the least.
I catapulted myself out of the bed, snagged his t-shirt that was haphazardly half on, half off the bed, and slipped it on before sitting down and grabbing my walking boot.
Despite wanting to follow after him, I needed that stupid thing. I’d already done quite a bit of walking without it in the past few days, and I knew it wasn’t doing me any favors ignoring the doctor’s advice.
Once I’d strapped myself in, I started out of the room.
When I followed him down the stairs and past the forgotten office chair that was still in pieces scattered across the floor, I found him outside, standing next to the scene of the crime.
There was still dried blood on the asphalt from Tater.
I felt my stomach roll, and I looked away, finding Trick beside the trash can, feeling for something behind it.
He was crouched down, his feet next to the brick wall, and his shoulder brushing it as he leaned to reach something.
“You go any further, and your dick and or balls is going to touch the asphalt, and I highly doubt that it’s been cleaned any time in the last twenty years,” I told him.
He snorted and stood up, gesturing toward the back of the dumpster. “See if you can reach your puny arms back there and get the phone that’s stuck to the back.”
I rolled my eyes and ignored the comment about my puny arms.
“You got a light?” I asked. The alley was in shadows and I couldn’t see a thing back there. “I have no idea what or where I’m reaching.”
A light came, and I bent over and squeezed as much of my body between the wall and the dumpster that I could before I reached whatever it was that was stuck on the back of the dumpster.
And he was right.
There was a phone attached to the little box that it was being held by.
“Here,” I said, turning around and holding it out to whom I thought was Trick.
But I was wrong.
It was Zach who’d been holding the light.
I widened my eyes and stared at the man. “Ummm.”
He winked at me, and I had a feeling that the man had seen my ass as I’d tried to squeeze in there.
When Zach moved, I saw a very naked Trick still standing there, uncaring that he was hanging out for the world to see.
“Trick,” I whispered. “You’re naked.”
He shrugged.
“Trick,” I said. “Your penis is hanging out for the world to see.”
Again, he did nothing.
“Trick,” I started again.
“I think she’s thinking that we should be worried about your dick being shown to us,” a newcomer said. Sin. “But, darlin’, I’d just like to point out that for the last twelve years, the man had to take a shit in front of at least one person. He wanked off next to that person, too. Trust me when I say, we’re past needing to protect our sensibilities.”
I winced.
“Shit,” I grumbled.
He was right.
Some of the stuff that I’d read about on some message boards when I’d been bored and curious one night came to me.
Prison is the worst. You never get a moment’s peace. You have to sleep with the lights on. The word no never means no unless you can back up that no. You never live. You have to survive. And you never come out the same person that you went in being.