Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“False alarm,” he announces while I ditch my black tank top. “Both females in question were nothing more than social media sharks.”
“Don’t disgrace my babies like that,” my wife mirthfully bites.
Fighting his urge to grin isn’t impossible but noticeably a struggle. “One works for Global Laundry-”
“Of course they do,” I grunt during my shoe removal.
“And the other for some celebrity tracking site.” His eye roll encourages mine. “Jessie’s friends constantly use it to see which bars or clubs they should be near to increase their chances of meeting whatever actor or knickknock star they’re into.”
“You mean TikTok?” Bryn questions in obvious amusement, body rotating our direction.
He shrugs off his mistake. “Sure.”
She swallows her snickers, leaving me to steer the conversation back on course. “Does Park believe the celebrity tracker site is how they located Bryn the day of the first incident? Or the hospital? Or even Wy’s school?”
“He doesn’t; however, I can inform him you’d like him to explore the possibility again.”
“Do that.”
“Yes, Sir.” He slides his hand into his pocket to retrieve his device. “Anything else?”
“A privacy perimeter.” Stealing a glimpse of my wife’s soaking wet tits, practically bursting out of the string opening pushes me to sternly add, “For at least an hour. Understood?”
Hurst smirks, nods, and spins on heels, “Understood, Wilcox.”
Subtle?
No.
Effective?
Undoubtedly.
Which is what truly matters.
I want completely uninterrupted time with my wife while it’s available.
Her back at work, me working, Wy’s never ending school needs, health appointments, along with our social and family obligations has this unappealing way of limiting our one-on-one opportunities.
And honestly?
Post the incident?
I now clearly see what it is she saw pre.
We have got to figure out how to make more time together for just us.
“Tell me, Little Prey,” I nonchalantly begin during my descent down the stairs into the long rectangle pool. “What were you looking at the water and thinking about?” She swivels her frame to face mine. “Blue sharks? Whale sharks?” The cold liquid reaches my lowers abs. “The rare speartooth shark you want us to make a special trip to Australia just to try to see?”
“I was actually thinking about when you walked us into the water on our wedding night, but now that you bring up the shark thing, let me just clarify, that that doesn’t have to be an us thing.” Giggles get me shaking my head in disapproval, leaving me no time to reflect on the latest memory that’s returned to her. “That can totally be just a me thing.”
“I’m not letting my wife travel across the world – alone – to maybe see an elusive shark.”
“I can take Calen.”
The rebuttal narrows my gaze and gets me slowly stalking towards her. “I’m absolutely not letting my wife travel across the fucking world with another man without me.”
“You’re so sexy when you’re growly, Mr. Wilcox,” she lightly snickers on a splash of water.
“You’re so sexy when you’re mine, Mrs. Wilcox,” I flirt in return prior to lunging forward to grab her.
Unfortunately for me, she executes an evasive maneuver to ensure she’s not caught and drops below the water, expecting me to pursue her.
To chase.
To never stop chasing no matter how hard she tries to get away.
I grab a giant gulp of air, drop below the surface, and dart after her knowing the only way to win is to be creative about my methods.
I repeatedly fake moving one direction and then the other, doing my best to continuously block her pathing, only to fail. The Slippery Little Mermaid skates past me along the very edge of the pool by swimming on her side while I’m simply trying to twist to face her yet again giving her space to get away. Frustrations push me up for air and the instant I rise to grab a gulp, so does she, prompting me to abandon the act mid suck in a desperate attempt to catch her off guard.
Except there is no “off guard” when Bryn’s in the water.
Here she’s somehow both relaxed and laser focused.
Carefree and cutthroat.
Fun and free and feral.
Her resolve – to no shock – lasts longer than mine forcing me to breathlessly surrender sooner than I care to admit. “You win, baby.” Wiping away the water off my face precedes a defeated grin. “You are the queen of swim tag.”
She uses both hands to push all of her wet locks away from her face. “And what exactly is my prize, Weston?”
The tone.
The name.
The fact that the strings to her top are already beginning to loosen.
“What exactly would you like, Brynley?”
One small pull liberates her tits from the bikini prison they’ve been screaming in. “To be your prey…”
I snatch her over to me by the ends of her hair and savagely smash my mouth on top of hers.
There’s no gentle nipping or light licking.
Her lips are roughly spread in tandem with her legs ruthlessly nudged wider.