Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“It needs your signature,” the cashier informed the woman.
“Oh.” She hastily moved forward and signed her name, but not before looking at me like I was about to jump her.
I rolled my eyes.
The woman grabbed her purchases and took off as if I was going to assault her at any second, and Six was still glaring at me.
“What?” I asked. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You could control your face.” She gestured to her face with a sweep of her hand. “You look all serial killer there. Your face is blank, and your eyes are all squinty.”
I had no clue what she was talking about and wasn’t sure that I wanted to have a clue.
“Did y’all find everything you needed?” The cashier smiled.
“You mean, did we find everything that she didn’t need?” I shot back.
The cashier grinned at me, batting her eyes.
Six growled. “Yes, we did, thank you.”
Then she moved so that her body was pressed to mine.
I smoothed my hand up her hip and then around her belly, pulling her in closer.
“Your jealous is showing,” I said as I bent down and whispered into her ear.
She looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Shut up.”
She didn’t deny it, though. She knew exactly what I meant.
Her nails dug into my forearm, but she didn’t pull away from my embrace.
“That’ll be…” the cashier started once everything was added up.
She didn’t even try to reach for her wallet.
“Not even gonna try?” I teased as I pulled out my wallet from my front pocket.
“A, no. You kidnapped me again. B, I would pay for it, you know, if I had a wallet. You let them take my car again, though, meaning that they took my wallet with them,” she pointed out.
My lips twitched. “You knew that I was going to have to pay for all of this, and you still got this much?”
My amusement of her actions knew no bounds.
“That’s why I continued to add crap to the cart that I didn’t need,” she pointed out as I swiped my card.
The cashier handed me the receipt, and it was the longest one I’d ever been given.
“You might want to keep that,” she said. “You can add it on to my tab.”
“You’re going to pay me back for this shit?” I knew she wouldn’t but asking her wouldn’t hurt.
Not that I expected to be reimbursed. If there was one thing that I could say, I was financially stable. Well, very stable. Way more stable than anyone else in the surrounding area.
Spending a couple hundred bucks on random shit she found at a gas station was pocket change to me.
Now, if we were getting in the tens of thousands, that might be a different story.
She opened the bag of cookies before we’d even made it to the car and was sliding on a sheen of the bacon lip gloss before shoving half a cookie into her mouth.
“Does it really taste like bacon?” I asked curiously.
She puckered up her lips, which happened to have cookie crumbs stuck to the sticky lip gloss.
I didn’t even hesitate.
She wasn’t expecting the move, so when I pressed my lips down to hers, she gasped in surprise.
The Chapstick did, indeed, taste like bacon.
• • •
When we arrived at my home in Souls Chapel, it was much different than when she’d left it the last time.
Now it not only had some furniture in it, but it also had food and drinks.
Too bad Six didn’t notice because she was fast asleep.
Bruno opened the door for me and frowned. “What’s she doing here?”
He’d obviously seen us coming on the monitors with how fast he’d gotten the door.
“She’s staying the night,” I said. “And I’m having her car brought here.”
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked as he watched me walk toward the stairs.
“She likes candy, cookies and Coke. Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if she was in a diabetic coma at this point due to how much she ate,” I explained.
Bruno’s laugh followed us up the stairs, but instead of taking her to the bedroom she’d used last time, I led her to my bedroom and laid her down on the cool sheets.
She didn’t so much as stir.
Heading to the bathroom to take care of some pressing needs and clean myself off from our earlier love making—sometimes a baby wipe just didn’t cut it—I took my time.
When I came back out, I fully expected her to be up and waiting to head in there. Only she was still fast asleep and hadn’t moved a single inch from where she’d been earlier.
Shedding what was left of the clothes I’d left on after the party, I easily put away the shirt, jacket and pants before tossing the dirty shit into the basket meant for the washer.
I knew that it’d need more than I was giving it, but at least for tonight, I wouldn’t be worrying about whether stains—from nefarious things in the back of a car—would come out of my five-thousand-dollar suit pants.