Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I agree.
We drive in silence for a few more minutes before he speaks again.
“Are you hungry?”
“It’s two in the morning, Quinten. I should be asleep.”
The silence returns.
“So umm…” He clamps his hand on the back of his neck as we slow to a red light, but he doesn’t look over at me. “So I can let Wren know, how many people have a key to your place?”
I look out the passenger window so he can’t see my smile.
“Parker.”
“So the guys that had a key were when you lived—”
“It was an ill-timed joke, Quinten. I’ve never given a man a key,” I explain as I pull my house key off the ring and hold it out to him. “Until now.”
He takes the key, his eyes finally meeting mine until they drop down to my lips.
He doesn’t know what he’s asking by insisting I come stay with him.
Hasn’t he ever read a damn book? Forced proximity never ends up being just that. We’ll either end up in bed or end up hating each other.
As the light turns green, I’m certain of which one I hope it’ll be.
Chapter 21
Quinten
My fingers tap on the steering wheel with no rhythm as we pull into the parking garage at my building. I don’t know why I’m nervous for her to be in my space. I’m not a messy guy. Hell, I’m hardly home enough to sleep and shower. Most of my free time is spent at the office.
I’ve casually dated in the past, but I don’t think a woman I was interested in on any level has been in my condo since the first couple of months after moving in, and that was in the condo one floor up from where I am now. No one but the guys from BBS have been inside this new one.
And I’m interested in Hayden on every single level possible.
I frown when Hayden doesn’t wait for me to open her door, and busy myself with pulling out her suitcases from the back seat. She meets me in the front of my truck, waiting for me to lead the way.
With it being so late, the elevator is waiting for us, and I’m grateful to get her from out in the open and inside the sanctuary of my personal space. I plug my keycard into the slot that allows access to my floor. As the elevator climbs to the thirteenth floor, we stand quietly. The silence makes me uncomfortable for some reason.
“I was on the fourteenth a couple of months ago,” I begin. “But they have been remodeling up there.”
“Wow,” she says when the elevator doors open to the swanky looking lounge area. “I’m in the wrong line of work.”
I grin as she walks further down to take in the view from the end of the hallway.
I jump, the sound of something hitting the door coming from the door next to mine. Of all the damn times I’ve gotten off the elevator to silence, this shit is going to happen tonight?
“What was that?” Hayden whispers as she walks back and stands beside me.
“That was—”
“You’ll fucking take it,” Wren hisses from inside his apartment.
Hayden clutches my arm when female cries and gagging sounds come from inside his condo.
“He’s hurting her,” she gasps as she looks up at me.
Goddamn, this woman is beautiful. I’m not into whatever the hell is going on in the next apartment, but fuck if my dick isn’t noticing just how close she is.
“Choke on it!”
And of course Whitney does because we can hear the sounds from our spot in the hallway.
“Maybe we should call the police,” Hayden urges.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. He’s hurting her.”
“Just listen,” I insist.
She tilts her head, brows scrunched together like she can’t believe that I’m not breaking down the door to protect the abused woman.
“Yes, please,” Whitney moans. “That. Do that again.”
A loud smack echoes.
“Again!” she screams. “I’m going to—”
“Oh! Oh God!” Hayden clamps her hand over her mouth and her cheeks flame redder than I’ve ever seen before.
“Maybe we should go into my place?” I point to the door a few feet down.
She doesn’t say a word, but she beats me to the door, unable to look me in the eye.
I chuckle as I unlock the door and shove it open so she can go in first. She scowls at me but doesn’t say a word.
“I take it you aren’t into stuff like that?”
“No,” she answers quickly, and I believe her.
She looks absolutely scandalized.
If she were into getting choked and being bossed around, it might make her being here in my space easier because it would make us incompatible in bed. I never should’ve asked the question because now I’m picturing her between my sheets, naked and squirming, begging me to stop making her come instead of pleading to let her do just that.