Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“No,” he hissed. “She wants us both.”
“Both?” I grimaced. “I’m not fucking into that, man.”
“And you think I am?” he asked, and I chuckled.
“Well, fuck,” I replied. “You want to do it?”
“No,” he said. “I fucking don’t. But I don’t really have a fucking choice.”
“Tough luck.” I stubbed out my cigarette, running a hand through my hair. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Midnight. Same place.” His voice was strained and I felt more than a little smug knowing he had to call me, had to ask me to come fuck his girl again.
“What’s her name?” What a stupid fucking question. There were so many other things I had to know. Like if I’d get to fuck her ass again. If he’d make me wear a damn rubber. If I’d get to fuck her alone anytime soon.
“Pet,” he bit out, and I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know about you but I refer to women by their actual fucking names unless I’m fucking them.”
“Then it shouldn’t matter,” he told me. “Since you’ll only be fucking her.”
I seethed with anger. “I want to know her name.”
He didn’t respond for a while, but when he did, his voice sounded defeated.
“It’s Sapphire.”
“She a fucking porn star?” I asked, laughing.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped. “Tomorrow. Midnight. And if you don’t do as I say, I’m cutting your balls off and feeding them to you.”
He cut the line and I laughed at my phone.
Twenty-four hours. A day until I’d be inside her again. Only one day until my head would feel blissfully empty, just like last time.
I felt like a moron going into the building again.
If the doorman said a single thing to me this time around, I’d punch him. I hyped myself up to do it, until I was so angry my fingers shook.
But when I came into the lobby, a different guy sat there. He gave me a look, but nodded in greeting, and I felt pissed I didn’t get to take my anger out on anyone.
I took the elevator to the top floor and enjoyed the sensation of déja-vu.
Standing in front of their door was awkward. But not as awkward as ringing the bell and having him open the door.
We glared at each other. I wished she’d opened the door for me.
It was like a fucking competition with this guy. And I was desperate to beat him.
He was wearing a shirt, pressed and ironed to perfection. And slacks. And dress shoes.
I was wearing a band shirt and my oldest pair of jeans. And Converse.
“Where is she?” I asked him.
He stepped aside, even though I could tell every cell in his body was shouting at him not to do it. I followed him inside.
No fucking sign of her. My cock ached to be inside her.
“Do you want a drink?” King asked me, and I glared at him.
“Do I look like I need a drink?” I asked him.
“I don’t really give a shit,” he said. “But I’m having one, so if you want one too, feel free.”
He poured himself a glass of whiskey, leaving the bottle on the table.
He stood next to the windows facing the street and stared down.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Thirty-two,” I replied, walking to his bar and rummaging through the bottles just to fucking piss him off. “This all you got?”
“You’re thirty-two?” he asked, giving me a doubtful look. “You dress like a teenager.”
“You dress like a fucking old geezer,” I told him. “Appropriate, I guess. You’re what, fifty?”
He stared and I laughed to relieve the tension.
“Calm down, jackass,” I told him. “Can I have this?”
I raised a bottle of rum at him, and he shrugged. “Whatever. Glasses are in the–”
He stared at me incredulously as I drank from the bottle.
“Are you fucking serious?” he asked me, and I grinned at him.
“Get off your high horse, old man,” I told him.
“You’re eight years younger than me,” he said. “She’s fourteen years younger than you.”
“She’s eighteen?” I stared at him, taking another swig from the bottle. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
We didn’t look at each other as we drank. Not enough to get me hammered, just enough to loosen up the nerves I never knew I had.
“I need to see her,” I said, and he bit back something he was gonna say.
“Yeah,” he said, setting his glass down. “Come with me.”
I put the bottle of rum on the bar and followed him. Playroom again. I wondered where she slept when he wasn’t using her in there. If they shared a bedroom, or if he made her sleep alone. He seemed like a possessive fucker, so I was pretty sure he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.
He reached for a key in his pocket and slid it in the lock.
“You had to lock her inside?” I asked him with my eyebrows raised. “She that eager to see me?”