Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“Yeah, we have a deal.”
Oh. Thank god.
“Are you going to tell me why you need information?” I question.
“Nope, gotta run. Come by my place tonight, in that ball gown you’re wearin’. Don’t wear panties. See you then.”
He hangs up.
I have no idea how he knows about the ball.
Or that I’m wearing a gown.
Or why he’s so confident I’ll be at his place later.
But, either way, I’m smiling.
So that’s something.
THE BALL IS HORRIBLE.
Rich people bragging about how rich they are, kissing each other’s asses all while plotting one another’s deaths.
I don’t have the patience for it.
I eat. I drink. I smile for the camera. Then I get the hell out of there. If I have to watch Becky tell someone else about how happily married she is, and how they’re planning future children, I’ll vomit.
I don’t want to ruin my dress.
I get into my car and drive to Remy’s house. I should just go home, you know, play hard to get and all that, but I actually want to see him. I need to be anywhere but that damned house for five minutes. Every time I’m there, I think about Constance and I wonder if she was there, while I was there, and I didn’t even know.
That makes me feel the worst.
I bang on Remy’s door, and then I wait, pantiless because I’m a good girl and do as I’m told.
He opens the door wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms. He looks fucking delicious and I’m glad in this moment that I made the choice to come here.
“I must say,” I murmur, “for an old man, you look good in pajamas.”
He grins, grabbing my arm. “Get in here.”
He pulls me inside and backs me up against a wall. I stare up at him for a moment, our eyes locking. “So,” I say, my voice breathy, “how’s it going?”
He grins. “It’ll be going good in a minute.”
He runs his hand down my spine and over my bottom. “No panties, you listened.”
“I don’t always do as I’m told, but when I do, I try to do it with style.”
He leans down, running his lips down my neck. “What should I do with you first?”
“Oh, after the night I’ve had, anything.”
He launches me up into his arms and walks me to his bedroom, and there, he does absolutely everything to me. His mouth on my pussy, his fingers deep inside me, his hard body over mine fucking me in ways you can only dream up. It’s incredible and I forgot how much I need it. Only when we’re done and my stomach rumbles do we actually take a break for him to cook us some food.
“I didn’t know you cooked,” I say, watching him at the kitchen counter, slicing up some stuff to make a pizza.
“I can do the basics,” he tells me. “Pizza, mostly.”
I laugh. “The staples, then?”
He grins.
“Tell me more about your friend Constance,” he asks me as he chops.
Great. Put a girl on the spot.
“She was a friend in the group I hung out with. We went to a party one night, she left and nobody saw her after.”
God, I hate lying.
Hate it.
Hate.
“Fuck, that sucks. Any idea what happened to her?”
“There are theories,” I go on. “The most popular being that she was hit by a car and the people freaked out and picked her up, dumping her. But as far as I know, nothing has proved any of that.”
“She have a man at the time?”
“I don’t think so,” I shrug. “There were no signs of a struggle, but her phone did ping in town here a few days after. That was the last known alert.”
He frowns. “Why would bring someone that far and then turn off their phone?”
“Maybe they didn’t realize she had a phone on her, or didn’t click to turn it off.”
“They never found the phone?”
I shake my head.
“Interesting.”
“Someone out there knows something, but I don’t know who.”
“I’ll ask around, see what I can find out. Know a lot of people in the darkest parts of these streets. If there has been talk of it, they’ll know.”
“I appreciate it.”
“How did your ball go?” Remy asks, placing the pizza in the oven. “Dance with a bunch of rich men?”
I laugh. “God no.” He hands me a beer. “I hate being there, and I’m fairly certain it was written all over my face because nobody approached me.”
“Resting bitch face, eh?”
“Something like that. I think most people were shocked to see me there. Half of them didn’t know I existed.”
“That good, huh?”
He sits down on the sofa, and I walk over, sitting beside him. “Well, my father doesn’t exactly tell the world about me. I’m not the favorite.”
“That’s because you’re not a suck ass.”
I nod. “You’re right on there. I never fit into that family. I swear I’m adopted, but I know if I was, he wouldn’t keep me around. So, I guess I have to accept it.”