Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Abel once again lifts me, easily putting me back over into my seat. I watch as he tries to adjust himself. There is no missing the outline of his cock in his slacks.
“Come on. Let's do this so we can get back home?”
“You mean the hotel.” He gives me a look that has me giggling. He makes a grab for me, but I open the door and jump out before he can get his hands on me. He jumps out of the truck, snagging my hand. I have no idea where this leaves us or why he was acting so weird with me today, but I guess we’ll figure that out later.
I lick my lips, still feeling him there. How in such a short time have I gone from trying to wiggle free of Abel to wondering why he wasn’t insisting on holding me tighter? Marist is standing in the door waiting for us.
She opens it for us to step in.
“Hi.” I give her a smile, not sure if this woman dislikes me now. She was so nice that day in the office, even asking to see some of my work.
“I’m sorry, Abel.” Marist pulls her robe tighter around her.
“I thought I was the one coming to apologize.”
Marist rolls her eyes, turning to head into a sitting room. It doesn’t shock me in the least that her place is beyond stunning. The woman has a great eye, and I hope she decides to stay on because I could learn a lot from her. She sits on the edge of a chair, motioning for us to take the sofa.
“If I had known this is what was going to happen, I would have kept my mouth shut.” She shakes her head. She’s sad. I can see it in her eyes.
“Marist. I don’t want you to think for one second I would try and replace you. I brought Pepper on because”—he looks over at me—“I want her close to me.” My stomach flutters. I must have been reading today wrong. Wait, does that mean he lied about thinking my work was impressive?
“I know that. I thought it would be Beck who rushed over here, but nope. Of course not. He can’t be bothered. Always so busy.” Abel looks a little shocked at her response.
“Beck would do anything for you. You know that.”
“Yes, Beck will give me anything money can buy. Which I don’t need because I can buy my own things. Yet he’s unwilling to give me the one thing I truly want. At first I thought his gestures were sweet, but now the only thing they do is piss me off.”
Abel looks so confused. So I decide to clue him in on what’s going on.
“She told Beck she quit to see what he would do,” I tell Abel. “He failed miserably.”
“He totally failed.” Marist nods in agreement.
“Men are stupid,” I blurt out, making Marist laugh.
“That they are.”
“We are.” Abel nods in agreement, making me smile.
“Let me tell you what this one did today.” I point at Abel.
“Wait. Let's go to the kitchen. I just opened a bottle of wine and I have a cheese plate. Then you can tell me everything.” She hops up. I stand, following her out of the room, thankful to have someone to talk about Abel with.
13
Abel
“You get it all out of your system?” I ask as I drive Pepper home.
She smirks. “For now, but I suspect the longer I stay with you, the more grievances I’ll have, so Marist and I now have a standing date for Wednesday happy hour.”
“Happy hour is notorious for drunk and handsy businessmen. Why not, say, ten in the morning at a coffee shop?”
“We want to drink.”
“You can drink at ten. Who says you can’t?”
“Lots of people. I think the surgeon general.”
“Sounds like he’s the general of the no fun police.”
“It’s a she.”
“Sounds like she’s the general of the no fun police.”
Pepper busts out laughing, which puts a smile on my face. I reach over and squeeze her knee. “You do what you want, babe, but I’ll be in the booth behind you or at the bar, one seat down making sure that all the horny dudes in the place know that you’re taken.”
Her pretty giggles die off abruptly. I take my eyes from the road to inspect her face. She doesn’t appear sad or upset, but more...contemplative?
“What’re you thinking?”
“That’s my line,” she says.
“How so?” I ask, vision back on the road.
“That’s what women always ask men and they say nothing.”
I start to object but then think of all the times Marist has asked for my thoughts and all the times my reply has been exactly, “nothing.”
“Does that piss you off?” Maybe Marist should’ve quit years ago.
“Yeah, actually, it does. My dad would do it to my mom. I think that’s why they got divorced. He never told her what was going on in his head and she would always think the worst. But she ended up being right because he was cheating on her.”