Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
As soon as we were in the hallway, Brett swooped down, picking me up and carrying me to our room. “Goddamn.” He buried his head in my neck, nuzzling once we were through the door. His beard tickled me. “You helped in there. You have no idea. Thank you, Billie.” His voice broke off, and he wound his arms tighter around me.
He was in his feels.
So was I.
I gauged his mood. “Brett.”
“Hmmm?” He looked down, his eyes smiling. His hands flattened on my back, shoving up under my shirt.
That was a good enough sign for me.
I reached for his pants
“Wha—” His hands covered mine.
“Oh, no. This time, I’m the one getting you worked up. Let’s see how you like it. Now.” I stepped back. “Strip and get on the bed.”
55
BILLIE
Brett’s phone buzzed at some point during the night. He answered, rolling out of bed, but when I stirred, he touched my arm. “Go back to sleep.”
Since it was three in the morning and we’d been busy until two hours ago, I was happy to incline. As he was moving to the bathroom, I faded back out.
The next time I woke, Brett was slipping into bed behind me. The covers came back down, and his arm pulled me to his chest.
Oh yes. So happy.
An abrupt knocking woke us up again. I was on my third time, this was Brett’s second. The knocking wouldn’t stop. Hard. Insistent. Brett cursed, stalking over. He opened the door, barking, “Fucking what?”
A muffled conversation happened after that.
I was awake. Barely. But I was up, and squinting at the clock, saw it was after five in the morning. The other call had been two hours ago. What was going on?
Brett was still in the hallway with the door slightly closed, so I grabbed my bag and slipped into the bathroom. I took a quick shower. The door was closed when I came back out and Brett was dressed, rifling through his bag.
I stopped in my tracks. “What are you doing?”
He threw a distracted look my way, his eyes skimming over me before returning to his bag. “I have to go.”
A knot rooted deep in my sternum. “What?” I stepped toward him.
“I have to go.” He zipped up his bag.
His wallet and phone were next to his bag on the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to go—”
Something in me snapped. I rushed over and just as he was about to pick up his bag, I snagged it, walking to the other side of the bed. Holding it on the other side of me, as if he would lunge across the bed for it, I leveled him with a look. “Okay. We’re going to start over because it’s obvious you’re forgetting a very important key phrase we both said to the other not long ago.”
He scowled, but it was me so he was trying to hold most of it back. “I don’t have time for this—”
“I’m aware. So stop wasting both of our time. You and me? We’re together. You said it yourself unless you were lying when you informed me how much you loved me as you slowly inched that giant dick inside me?”
His eyes heated, but his mouth went into a flatline. “You can’t come with me.”
“Well, that’s bullshit and we both know it.”
“Billie,” he sighed, running an impatient hand through his beard.
“Where I go, you go. You stick like glue,” I quoted him. “Remember those words? How does that not apply here?”
His hands were in fists. He growled, “Because that guy is caught—”
“So all the other people out there, who are highly disturbed, and unhealthily fixated on the Midwest Butcher, and who knows how many others are now obsessed with the Copier Killer? All those people don’t matter? Now, what? You’re off to do whatever the fuck you’re off to do and I get to go my merry way back to Texas? Lo and Roger are right now on their way to the airport. Travis left yesterday. I was supposed to go back with you.”
Some of his glowering dissipated. “I made arrangements for your own private plane—”
Oh my God. I wanted to scream and throw things at him for two reasons. One, a private plane? I’ve never traveled on a private plane. And the other, he did it now? When it was so apparent I wasn’t going to leave without him. I met his level of growling with my own, and it quieted him.
“You have anything breakable in here?” I held up his bag.
His head raised, wary. “No. Why?”
I let loose with the most aggravated grunt I could muster as I slammed his bag down on the bed. “You got me a private plane now? Now? I’m not going. Where you go, I go. Where you move, I move, and now I’m going to have that song in my head all day, but if you try to take one step out of this hotel room without me going with you, I will—”