Speak of the Devil – Westcott Family Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
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“Alright. That’s what we’ll do.” Without having time to work through a plan, I start across the lobby back to Roberta. Cat is in tow, and as soon as we reach the window, she hands me her keys.

“Excuse me,” I say, cutting in front of a happy couple. Roberta does a double-take, but I have her attention. “I need to exit out the back.”

The guy next to me points his finger, though I’m only three inches from the dude. “Hey, you’re Shane . . . Um . . .” He snaps his fingers. “What’s your name again?”

Roberta hops off her stool, so tiny I can barely see her. “Last door down on the right. I’ll meet you there.”

My eyes only connect with Cat’s briefly before we’re on the move again. The door is opened, and Roberta waves us inside. “So you’re a celebrity?”

“He’s an incredible musician,” Cat says as if she’s paid PR.

I pause, watching my wife in wonder. She’s listened to Faris Wheel? A warmth stirs inside me as I look at her in a different way. “Thanks.”

Bumping into me, she plays it off. “Anytime.”

If I weren’t in such a hurry to get out of here, I’d be taking my time with her. But in this fucking life, time is stolen out from under us. I look at her hair hanging over her shoulders as her eyes exude the innocence of someone not exposed to my lifestyle. She’s too beautiful to be caught up in my life. The last thing I want to do is put her under the invasive microscope of the press. “Stay here. If I’m caught, it shouldn’t be with you.”

“I’m not sure how to take that.”

I glance back, and though a smile still creases her cheeks, I can tell I’ve left her unsure of my intentions. I stop and turn back, whispering, “I don’t want them chasing you, digging into your life, or harassing you. That’s what they’ll do if they catch us together.” I almost touch her cheek, caress the innocence and trust she’s giving me through her eyes. I lower my hand for both of our sakes because this isn’t the time or place.

We reach the exit in the back of the office, and they stop while I push through the door, and then look back. “There’s a convenience store at the corner. I’ll wait for you there.”

“What about your car?” Cat asks, concern marring her forehead.

“Don’t worry about it. My manager will get it.” I step outside into the sunshine, but the blue sky can’t compete with the gorgeous golden browns of her irises. “I’ll see you soon.”

She waves as if it might be a final goodbye, that worry still dominant in her features. “Be careful.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry. Your car is safe with me.”

“I’m not worried about the car. I was talking about you, Shane.”

If we were any other couple in LA, every green flag would be waving for me to kiss her, but we don’t live in reality. We’re stuck inside the madness of my life. And with that comes long lenses and no privacy. I’m not able to do what I want, so I leave, taking away any option I thought I had back there.

It’s better not to act like we could be a thing anyway. My steps pause as the thought cements in my brain. What am I saying? Tied down is the last thing I want to be, not even in the bedroom. Plus, her life is designed exactly how she planned and is quiet. I bet she lounges around on Sundays and reads or something peaceful like that. She seems happy, and I’m struggling with the surety that being tied to me will taint her joy.

I’m a pro when it comes to trying to blend in. I’m not always successful; my height draws attention for most, but the photographers in LA are used to celebrities trying to move around incognito and have their eyes peeled. When I reach the corner, though, they aren’t looking anywhere but at the front doors of the building.

What would I say if they saw me? Why am I here? Excuses run as fast as I do between cars on the first row, keeping my eyes on the ground and hitting the second lineup of vehicles. I work through that lot and to the back without them even looking around.

I recognize Cat’s Toyota in the vicinity of where she directed me, but also by the ding on the back of her car. I hop in, jamming my legs. Fuck me. Adjusting the seat all the way back, I slide lower, hoping to escape without anyone noticing.

Cracking the window, I listen for my name while cruising responsibly through the parking lot, which I know Cat will appreciate. And then someone yells, “Hey, there he is! Get him.”



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