Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 64617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
The way he looked, the way I felt, the instant connection that brought me to him. There was no denying it on my part, I wanted to know him.
Badly.
“Camila, Mamita!” Danté shouted, calling me over to his office.
I stood by the door with my arms crossed over my chest, leaning into the threshold.
“What’s up with you tonight?”
“Nothing.”
“It don’t look like nothing.”
“Why do you think something’s up with me?”
“Cuz you ain’t shakin’ your ass. That ain’t the Latina I know.”
I scoffed out a chuckle.
“So spill, what’s goin’ on? What did Cheech do now?”
“It’s not Jackson this time.”
“Ohhhhh gurl, the tea just got hot,” he exclaimed with a big smile across his face. “You are sizzlin’, let me sip that tea.”
I rolled my eyes.
“What did Doctor Daddy do? Put you over his knee and spank you?”
“Well that escalated quickly.”
He smacked the air and grinded his hips into his leather chair, rocking back and forth to the beat of the music thumping through the walls. “Did he get all up in there, examinin’ your booty?”
“Danté!” I scolded, standing upright.
“Gurl, don’t pretend like you haven’t thought ’bout it. Now that we know his wife is dea—”
“We don’t know that.”
He eyed me skeptically, pointing in between us. “Camila, who you playin’? You were in their master bedroom wit’ me. You saw what I saw. That man’s wife is long gone.”
I sighed.
“What’s up wit’ you? Did you accidentally see his dick or somethin’? Ugh,” he made a disgruntled face and noise from the back of his throat. “Is it small?”
“Oh. My. God.” I shook my head. “Why do I even bother trying to talk to you?”
“Miss Thang, you haven’t said shit.”
“I saw him today.” I simply replied.
“Oh…” he sympathized. “So it is small.”
“Danté, be serious for one minute please.”
“I am,” he chided, weaving his head. “Havin’ a small dick ain’t a good look for a man that fine. Are his fingers at least long? How ’bout the tongue, how that look?”
“Oh. My. God!” I repeated, rubbing my forehead. “I didn’t see his dick, okay?”
“Oh, so you’re upset you didn’t see it?”
“Danté, this has nothing to do with Dr. Pierce’s dick.”
“Damn, Mamita, that’s a shame.”
“Are you going to listen to me now?”
He beamed in that Danté sort of way, leaning back into his chair, he threw his bedazzled feet up on the desk. Nodding, “Proceed.”
I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts before sharing, “I think there’s cameras in the house.”
“Gurl…” He stuck his hand up in the air with nothing but attitude. “Don’t tell me that, cuz I did not look my best that day. Had I known I would have—”
“Anyway, I lost my shit… I mean like legit lost my shit on a bunny.”
“Come again?”
“I ended up leaving Journey with Jackson and drove their car to the hospital.”
His eyes widened. “I think I need some popcorn.” He pretended to throw one in his mouth. “Go on.”
“When I got there, I met his RN Renee and she knew me. Like knew things that only cameras could see, so now I know there are cameras.”
“Oh, gurl, have you been shakin’ dat ass on camera with Paris these last few months?”
I shut my eyes, throwing my head back against the door frame. “Don’t remind me.”
“And the plot thickens. Doctor Daddy has probably been whackin’ it off to ya, honey.”
Ignoring him, I continued on with my story. “So, I stepped off the elevator on the floor where his office was located, and I swear to God, Danté, I felt him.”
“Say what?”
“I know. It makes no sense, but I did. I felt him, I smelled him, I-I-I-I don’t know … I just … I knew where he was before I even saw him. Like what the fuck is that?”
“Camila, that’s some soul mate shit right there. Gurl, you gonna have his babies. What did he smell like? A man, right? A musky, sexy, doctor man.”
Disregarding him again, I stated, “He’s an asshole.”
“Oh, baby, they all are. Especially dem doctors, thinkin’ they God’s gift wit’ huge egos and cocks—”
“But then… I saw him in his office, and he was… he was breaking down…”
“Like breakin’ it down?”
“No, like devastated. He was upset and then he threw his wedding photo.”
“At you?”
“No, at the wall.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“And then he slammed you up against that same wall and did you next?”
“Danté! We didn’t do anything. He didn’t even know I was there.”
“So, he didn’t feel you, but he probably saw you on the cameras?”
“Yeah.”
“Then he’s going to know you went to the hospital.”
“I mean, I guess. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”
“Cuz you’re thinkin’ of his dic—”
“I have feelings for a man I’ve never met. My married employer. I’m not that woman, Danté. I will never be that woman.”
“Honey, it don’t matter. His wife is dead.”
I wanted to argue with him, put up a fight for what he was saying, but I couldn’t get my mouth to release the words. I knew deep down he was probably right, and that was the hardest pill to swallow.