Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“It wasn’t a bad hmm.” I back it up a couple of frames to get a better look. “Does that say ‘Moist’?” A few more frames back and it’s clearer. “Get the Moist out of your Drycleaning!” The name above it is obscured by the gas station awning. I move it forward a bit and catch a few of the license plate digits, but not all of them.
“I can make out the phone number.” May grabs a pen and a Post-it and jots it down. “I mean, it’s probably just a regular dry cleaners. We should keep looking.”
“Hey—” I take the Post-it from her and fire off a quick text to Squirrel. “Always trust your gut. It’s a van, plenty of room to stow a cat and accomplices. It’s also smart to use a business–even if it’s a fake one–as they don’t raise as much suspicion. I think you’re on to something.”
She turns sideways in my lap, her ass rubbing my cock in all the right ways. “You really think so?”
My phone chimes.
“That was quick.” She watches as I click on the message from Squirrel.
Squirrel: Fake number. Give me some time on the plates. I like the slogan, but it’s not real either. No such business.
“You nailed it.” I meet her eyes.
Her smile is so open, so fucking warm that it melts every little piece of me that I didn’t know was frozen. “Really?”
“Really.”
She jumps up and squeals. “Yes! We did it!”
“You did it.” I take her hand again and lead her out of the skunky back room and to the car. “Come on, we’ll need to hunker down for the night and wait for Squirrel.”
“Oh, yeah. Dudley sent me an email with the name and address of some hotel in the city. I guess I’ll–”
“You’re staying with me.”
“At the hotel?” she asks as I open the car door for her.
“No. I have a place in the city.”
“You live here?”
“No.” Once she’s sitting, I reach across and fasten her seat belt.
“Then why do you have a place here?”
“I do a lot of traveling for work, so I have homes in a few major cities.”
Her mouth drops open. “Homes, plural?” She turns her head to where Mousey is now awake in the back seat. “I guess you were right. He is loaded.”
I stifle a laugh, barely. “Let’s get some dinner, and we’ll discuss our next moves. Sound good?”
She turns back to me, her pink tongue darting out and wetting her lips as she glances at my mouth. “Yes.”
Because I can’t help myself, I kiss her. Not rough, not deep like I’m desperate for, but enough for her to know this is more than just a business dinner. More than a simple business relationship. Whatever this is between us, there’s nothing simple about it.
12
MAY
“Ithink I got myself a sugar daddy.” Mousey meows from the back seat. Her paws peek out the window. I spot Carson coming toward the car. His arms are loaded with bags. I snort a laugh and jump out of the car to help him.
“What?” Carson pauses.
“That’s more than what was on the list,” I point out. We stopped at the pet store to pick up a few things before we go by Carson’s place to drop Mousey and everything off before dinner. I’d given Carson a list of things she’d need in order for us to stay with him.
As much as I love animals, pet stores are not my favorite place. Not when there are rows of kittens and puppies begging to get out. I can’t resist going over to them, and then I’m heartbroken when I can’t rescue them all, especially when they sometimes beg me to take them with me.
At the shelter, it is different. I spend time with all of them and form some bonds. I know they are being taken care of, and we’re searching for their forever homes. The pet store is just so depressing.
“I wanted to make sure I got it all.” An almost sheepish expression crosses his face, making my insides melt.
The fact that mere hours ago he didn’t even like cats and now he is going out of his way for Mousey warms my heart. If I’m not careful, this man is going to make me fall in love with him. Carson reminds me of the husband you send out for cereal you’re craving from the store, and he returns home with ten boxes of all different kinds.
“You’ll turn her spoiled rotten,” I tease, opening the back so that he can put everything inside.
“Don’t ruin this for me!” I roll my eyes at Mousey. “No one treats me with this much respect in that other place. Let me have this.”
“It’s already starting.”
“What did she say?” Carson asks curiously.
“That she got herself a sugar daddy.” His eyebrows rise, making me laugh more. I shut the back. Carson, being a gentleman, once again goes around and opens my door for me.