Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
And goddamn it all to hell… I fucking want it again.
And badly.
It would be completely inappropriate for me to act on as she’s my client and paying me good money to do a job for her—one that does not include sex and orgasms.
Besides that, Joslyn hasn’t given one indication she thinks about me in the same way. She’s not tried to flirt or dress provocatively—the sexy sleep outfit last night doesn’t count as she wore it to bed without ever intending for me to see it—and she’s been very much held in reserve around me.
For a man of thirty-eight years who has always been incredibly confident and sure of himself, the fact she’s got my stomach all churned up is really pissing me off. I hope to fuck I can lure this maniac out quickly, dispatch the fucker, and get back on to my new life in Pittsburgh.
I crack my beer open and take a long pull, considering my game plan to lure Joslyn’s stalker out into the open. It’s ballsy and full of risk, but I believe we can pull it off. I don’t see any other way unless Joslyn were just to go back about her life and wait for the guy to strike again. That’s not even an option really. Who could live like that?
I know I sure as fuck couldn’t.
The sounds of the French door opening behind me causes me my spine to stiffen and I glance over my shoulder to see Joslyn walking out to join me. I knew it would be her. Sensed it. Felt the vibe. Prickled with awareness. Whatever the fuck it’s called, I felt her coming before I saw her.
While the patio lights are off, there’s enough landscape lighting around the hedges and in the bushes to easily see she’s got a glass of wine in her hand as she walks my way. I bristle at the thought she’d want to join me out here for a relaxing drink because nothing about Joslyn inspires relaxation.
I don’t say a word, though, as she comes up the steps and strides right up to the banister to stand beside me. She bends at the waist, puts her forearms on the cement top, and gazes out at the horizon silently.
“You should get some rest,” I grumble before I take a sip of my beer. I move a step to the left to put some distance between us.
“I know,” she replies quietly. “I tried, but I just can’t. I usually come out here when I can’t sleep. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“It’s your house.” My reply is curt and assholish. “Do what you want.”
“I will,” she snaps, showing a very brief glimpse of the sass I used to appreciate so much about this woman. But instead of turning me on, it pisses me off more, because that sass isn’t being offered to amuse me.
It’s not for my appreciation and respect.
It belongs only to her and never to me.
“You really should get your ass to bed, woman,” I growl.
“Why are you being such a dick to me?” she demands. There’s a landscape light just below her in the flowering vines, and her face is illuminated enough to see the flash of anger in her eyes. “I don’t deserve it.”
“You don’t deserve it?” I sneer. Clearly, the bitterness I’d thought I’d let go of is sneaking back out. “You honestly don’t think you deserve it?”
“No,” she yells, her hand holding the wineglass shaking terribly in her fury. “I don’t deserve it. I never did a thing to warrant this, and I have to wonder what happened in your life that turned you into such an asshole.”
God, that makes me fucking laugh. Doubled at the waist, I laugh, incredulous she would ever think to point a finger. I straighten, lean toward her, and taunt, “You’ve got some fucking nerve, Joslyn. You leave me high and dry twelve years ago without a goddamn explanation… and you’re curious as to why I’m being an asshole to you?”
Joslyn’s eyes narrow and spark with fury. Leaning into me, she practically hisses, “You were fucking cheating on me, you sanctimonious prick. I didn’t owe you anything except a goodbye.”
I’m so stunned by her allegation I step backward as if she’d slapped me in the face. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She advances, pokes a delicate finger in my chest. “You were screwing someone else while you were proclaiming to love me. You were a cheating, dirty bastard, and you should count yourself lucky I gave you the courtesy of a goodbye.”
My ears start buzzing, my blood boiling with rage. “You are bloody fucking mental. I never cheated on you.”
“You did,” she proclaims bitterly, tears welling in her eyes. “I saw the pictures.”
“That’s a fucking lie,” I growl, a dangerous sound that should cause her to be cautious because I’ve had about enough of this shit.