Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
To strip her bare.
To lick, nip, suck, her into a frenzy before settling between her thick thighs and surging inside of her.
That was the only real relief from the feelings I was dealing with.
But that didn’t stop me from fisting my cock, bringing myself up and through a powerful orgasm that made me have to slam a hand on the countertop to keep myself upright as it moved through me.
“Christ,” I hissed afterward as I washed my hands, looking up at my reflection in the mirror. “Get it the fuck together,” I demanded, rolling my neck, then reaching into my bag for my meds, realizing I hadn’t taken them because I hadn’t gone out first thing for my coffee like I normally would have.
I wasn’t ashamed on being on meds. They kept me even. But that didn’t mean that everyone around me knew about them. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever told Sawyer or Tig about them.
Though, objectively, Sawyer would probably understand more than anyone else.
He was the one who’d seen me almost at my worst. Almost. He’d been the one to drag me out of the woods and force some normalcy back into my life. He gave me a reason to climb out of bed, to get dressed, to be a functioning member of society again.
That said, he didn’t know my lowest of lows.
And the crazy part was that I’d been so close to telling Miranda about that phase in my life. Not just because it would help her feel better, either, but rather… I just wanted her to know.
I’d spent a lot of time with a lot of different women in my life. Flings, mostly, but some lasting weeks or even months of casual fun where we were with each other almost day and night.
Not a single one of them knew me, not really.
They knew parts of me, of course.
But not anything past surface level.
Up until a day or so ago, I didn’t want anyone to know me deeper than that. Yet there was no mistaking that some part of me wanted to let Miranda all the way in.
That was probably why it was proving so damn hard to stay away from her, keep my hands off of her. Because, whether I truly understood it or not, I was interested in her. In more than a fun, casual way. Or, at least, that was what it felt like. What the fuck did I know? I had no experience with anything other than casual when it came to women.
I was still waiting to hear back from Sawyer when my phone started to ring on the counter in the kitchen.
I felt a strange swirling tightness in my stomach as I saw Miranda’s name there.
Because something within me told me that she wasn’t willingly calling me to talk about her day or something like that.
Something happened.
“Miranda,” I answered, hearing a choked sound to my own voice.
“Brock,” she responded, voice shaky.
I was already moving through the apartment and out the door.
“Where are you?”
“Work,” she responded in that same uneven voice.
“What happened?”
“Hey, Brock, it’s Cam,” Cam’s voice said.
“Cam, what the fuck is going on?” I asked, taking the elevator down.
“Miranda was attacked.”
“What the fuck do you mean she was attacked?” I asked, racing through the lobby and outside, side-eyeing the doorman as I went, since I still hadn’t marked him off my list. Though, clearly, he was still at work.
“She decided to take a walk to go grab lunch. To clear her head,” he added, and his voice was going lower, like he was trying to keep Miranda from overhearing, and getting her even more worked up.
“And?” I growled, hailing a cab, then throwing myself inside, knowing it would take much longer to use my car and find parking once I got there.
“Someone caught her between buildings and shoved her into the wall.”
“Fuck. Is she hurt?”
“She’s a little scratched up. But I think she’s more freaked out than anything.”
“Was she mugged? Did they take anything?”
“No.”
That was… bizarre.
It wouldn’t have been completely crazy for her to have been targeted to be mugged. Looking like she looked. Wearing the nice shit she wore. Anyone who knew anything about brands would have seen her and known there would be a nice amount of cash in her wallet.
But if they didn’t take anything… what the fuck was the point of attacking her?
I mean, sure. It was the city. Sometimes there were just crazy and violent people around. But just random acts of small amounts of violence weren’t that common.
“Did they say anything to her?” I asked.
“Not that she heard, no.”
“Okay. I’m five minutes away. Can you make sure the security lets me up?”
“Already done,” he said. And of course it was. This was Cam, after all.
“Okay. Try to keep her calm. I’ll be right there.”
My heart was hammering in my chest as we wove through the traffic in the city, the driver clearly overhearing my conversation, and putting a bit of a stick in it.