Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
I didn’t like it. It had me worried so I called again two minutes later. No answer. Maybe she was in the shower. Maybe she was taking a nap. Maybe she’d taken a leap off my balcony to her death because she was so cracked because of what those sons of bitches did to her. I waited ten more minutes that felt more like an hour and called again. No answer. I had a sinking feeling.
I rushed home, sick to my stomach. When I got off the elevator, music assaulted my ears and it was coming from my apartment. I got in, disarmed the alarm, and found her in the den working out with my Bowflex. She had the door open and my stereo in the living room was on max, playing Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones, most definitely drowning out the land line and maybe the landlines of the entire floor.
My heart was racing. I leaned against the doorframe and let out a deep breath.
She stopped exercising, looking a little startled at the sight of me. She had a white towel beside her. She wiped her forehead and dabbed at her chest and then stood up, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a glug.
“Hi,” she shouted over the music. “Everything okay?”
“Fine, fine.” I raised my index finger to indicate one sec and then went into the bedroom and grabbed the cell phone box out of the silver bag in the drawer, circled back, turning the stereo off on my way. I put the phone box on my desk.
“Fuck that was loud!”
Her eyes widened. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, baby. That was one of the gifts I bought you yesterday. I’ve been trying to call and couldn’t get you. Freaked me out.”
I leaned over and turned the ringer up on the desk phone. It was pretty low. Not that she’d have heard it over that music.
I opened the phone box and took the phone out, “I’ll program my numbers,” I said and sat down on the futon.
“I’ll just…uh...I was gonna grab a fast shower. You’ll be here long enough for me to say bye?”
I nodded, putting the sim card into the phone.
“I’ll be fast,” she said and jogged out of the room.
Listening to music blaring like that wasn’t something a timid and broken woman would typically do. At least I didn’t think so. I got a little smile on my face.
I fiddled with the phone a minute and then thought fuck it. I called my receptionist and told her to clear my afternoon. I went to the master bathroom, stripped outta my suit, and got in the shower with Angel. I gave her a smile as I moved in and got my mouth around her left nipple, my fingers between her legs.
I pinned her against the shower wall and kissed my way slowly down to her thighs and then got on my knees and hooked one of her legs over my shoulder. As I tasted her, she drove her fingers into my hair and moaned. There were definite advantages to having my office five minutes from where I had my angel.
After we went at it in the shower, she went down on me in the bed while making herself come. Then I went down on her again, her ass on the bed, this time both of her knees up over my shoulders until I made her come. Then we fell asleep, exhausted from the exertion.
I woke up to loud banging. I sat up. She sat up, too.
Who was knocking on my door? I got into a pair of jeans and stuffed my piece into the back of the waistband. I headed to the door barefoot and bare chested. I looked out the peep hole. It couldn’t fucking be…
I opened the door and folded my arms across my chest, a scowl on my face. Fucking Debbie. What the fuck?
She looked surprised. Did she expect Angel to answer the door? I should’ve been at work so chances were she wouldn’t catch me here.
She was wearing high fuck-me heels, a short, tight black skirt, her hair down. She had her signature bright red lips all done up. Lots of cleavage popping out of a purple low-cut sweater.
“What the fuck? How’d you get in here?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d let me in if I buzzed up so I followed behind someone.
I rolled my eyes and let out a huff. “What do you want?”
“To talk. Can I come in and talk to you?” She eyed me from head to toe and then back up.
“I’m fucking busy.”
Her face went sour. “You mean busy fucking?”
Middle of the afternoon, half undressed. I hadn’t even gotten my jeans button done up. I probably had just-fucked hair. Angel’s fingers had worked my hair over repeatedly.
I raised my brows and waited for her to continue, not saying anything.