Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Do you like vampires?” he asks, distracted.
“Are you listening? I didn’t sell one picture today. My feet must be a turnoff.”
“How many cocks do the people in your books have?”
“What?” I scoff. I throw my hands up. “I don’t know what goes through that mind of yours sometimes. Focus.” I turn and march out to the living room.
I hear him pull a book off the shelf. “Can I take more than one?”
“Since when do you like romance books?” I call back.
“I’m trying to learn how to be romantic.”
“You are?” I screw up my face. “Since when?”
“Since now.”
“Why would you want to be romantic?” I call.
“Ahhh . . .” He hesitates. “I’m thinking of settling down.”
What?
“With who?”
“Ahh . . . I don’t know yet.” He walks out into the living room with a huge stack of books. “I’m borrowing these.”
I stare at him, my mind a clusterfuck of confusion. “Since when do you want to settle down?”
“It’s just a thought.” He shrugs. “So . . . your feet?”
“Are obviously ugly.”
He rolls his eyes. “That’s a load of crap, and you know it.”
“Well, why haven’t we sold one? Not a single hit.”
“It’s early days.” He puts his pile of books down and flops onto my couch. “Relax.”
I let out a deep, deflated breath. “Maybe we need to do better photos?”
“Possibly.” He rubs the backs of his fingers over his stubble as he thinks. “Is there fisting in your books?”
“What?” I screw up my face in horror. “No.”
“What about fisting frenzies—any fisting frenzies?”
“I thought you wanted to learn how to be romantic?” I gasp.
“I do. I do.”
I widen my eyes. “A fisting frenzy is how you want to be romantic?”
“Yeah.” He widens his eyes back. “It is, actually.”
“Eww.”
“You don’t like fisting?” He raises an eyebrow in question.
“No. I do not.”
He sits forward, as if interested. “Ever tried it?”
“Never have. Never will.”
“Ha,” he huffs as he sits back. “Famous last words. You all say that.”
Did he fist Taryn?
The thought turns my stomach. “You’re repulsive.”
“Many women find me irresistible.”
“Yeah, well, they have giant, stretched-out vaginas, so they don’t count.”
He tilts his head to the side in silent agreement.
Knock, knock sounds at the front door.
“Who’s that?”
Blake rolls his eyes. “It will be Antony.”
“What does he want?” I begin to walk to the door.
“Probably some books.”
“He’s trying to learn how to be romantic too?” I squeak. What the hell is going on with these guys?
I open the door, and my face falls as I see John, my ex-husband; my hackles instantly rise. “What are you doing here?” I snap.
“Hi.” He gives me a lopsided smile as he brushes past me into the house, then stops suddenly when he sees Blake lying back on my couch.
“What the hell are you doing here with my wife?” John growls.
“She’s not your wife.” Blake stands and walks to John and pushes him hard in the chest. “Get the fuck out.”
Chapter 6
They grab each other by the shirt as they get in each other’s faces.
What the hell?
That escalated at a million miles per minute.
“Stop it,” I yell. Blake throws John toward the front door. Damn it. “Blake, stop it.”
“Get the fuck out, and don’t come back,” Blake growls.
“Blake,” I yell as I begin to get angry with him too. I need to speak to John. “Will you listen to me? Go home.”
“No.” Blake wrestles with John.
“Oh, it’s all making sense now, Rebecca,” John fumes. “This is why you want a divorce.”
“I want a divorce because you are an idiot,” I spit. “Blake. Will you stop pushing him?”
“Nope.” He pushes John down the stairs, and he goes flying across the lawn. “When I tell you I want a reason to kick your ass, I mean it.”
“You touch me again and I’m calling the police.” John stands and dusts himself off. “And to think . . . while I thought you were my friend”—he sneers—“you had your eye on my wife the entire time.”
“Because you were too busy looking at other women,” Blake screams as his anger hits a crescendo.
I see Antony’s front door open, and he walks out onto his porch to see what’s happening. Antony begins to make his way over. “Blake,” he calls.
“Go home. Both of you.” I look up to see Juliet and Henley have come out front too.
“What’s going on?” Henley calls as he crosses the road toward us.
“You think you have it all figured out, Rebecca,” John yells. “What a pathetic downgrade. Blake Grayson is the biggest womanizer I’ve ever met. He will throw you to the curb as soon as someone new comes along, and everyone fucking knows it. I love you; I made a mistake. You mean nothing to him.”
“You lying prick.” Blake throws a punch, and it connects with John’s jaw. He staggers back. John loses control and runs full speed at Blake, and they both crash to the ground.