Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Why?” I wondered, my heart rate starting to accelerate as my mind switched into work mode.
It wasn’t that I wouldn’t take her, because I could and would if she really wanted to go home. I just didn’t see why she had to go home at all. Especially when we were both going to the same place in the morning.
“My brakes were acting up,” she said. “And when I pulled into your driveway, the brake pedal went all the way to the ground, making me have to use the emergency brake to stop. You’re lucky you still have a garage.”
I sighed.
“I told you a year ago that you needed to get rid of the piece of crap,” I told her. “Why do you still have it?”
“Sentimental value?” she teased.
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Fine,” she said. “I just hate the idea of getting a new car only to have it immediately lose its value the moment I drive it off the lot. That’s fucking bullshit. If I have to drive a car that’s not worth what I paid for it, I might as well drive my old clunker of a truck. What’s the point of paying all that money for a new car only for it to not be worth it as soon as you drive off in it for the first time?”
I rolled my eyes at her logic.
“How about the fact that it’s new, and it won’t have any mechanical problems with things like the brakes? How about that because everything will be in excellent working order so it’ll be more dependable, reliable and fucking safer than your current vehicle?” I started ticking off the benefits of new car ownership. “How about the fact that if anything does break or stop working, it’s under warranty and the dealer will fix or replace it? How about the fact that a new vehicle will give you way better gas mileage than your truck?”
She glared at me.
“Anyway,” I said. “I have to go and don’t have time to take you,” I informed her as I reached for the last thing I needed, my gun.
She sighed.
“You’re going to make me stay here, aren’t you?” she asked.
I grinned and nodded.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll stay.”
Placing a final kiss on her cheek, I smoothed the hair away from her face, and said, “Love you.”
Then I was gone, hurrying out the door before she could deny the feelings that I knew she felt for me in return.
But I left her with something other than me working to think about tonight, that’s for sure.
Chapter 17
My boss said I intimidated people. So I stared at him until he apologized.
-Wolf to Dean
Three months later
July
“How’s the diet going?” Des asked as she forked into her salad.
I did the same, shame filling me.
“Not good, I had eggs for breakfast,” I told her truthfully.
“What’s wrong with eggs?” she asked, confusion furrowing her brows.
I smiled wanly at her.
“They were Cadbury,” I told her without making eye contact. “I had fifteen of them. Everything I’d planned on putting into Dean’s Easter basket.”
Des stopped with a forkful of salad nearly to her mouth.
“You’re kidding, right?” She waited.
I shook my head in shame. “No, no I am not. I wish I was, but I’m really not. Ever since he’s come back into my life, he’s made it his personal mission to feed me. He keeps saying that I’m the perfect size but I gained so much when we were apart, and he then informed me that it would please him if I ate more. Now I find myself eating way more than I normally would to make him happy, and the next thing I knew, I had eaten all the Easter candy.”
Des’ mouth had dropped open during my explanation, and her eyes lit at hearing it would ‘please him.’
“Does he still like to do all that kinky stuff that he used to like to do?” she probed.
I shrugged. “Yes.”
There was no use in lying to my best friend. Nor did I want to lie.
I liked the way Dean was. I enjoyed his kinky, dominant side.
We weren’t a dominant and submissive or anything like that, but we did play around with it in the privacy of our bedroom.
The only reason Des knew about it at all was because I’d asked her if she knew anything about it when I’d first met Dean.
A slow smile started to overtake my face as I remembered that first discussion we’d had. In the parking lot of our first date of all places.
“Was your food good?” Dean asked, his face a little pained.
I smiled at him.
“I love their food. It’s my favorite place to eat, ever,” I informed him. “In fact, if I could have it every day of the week, I totally would. My brother and I used to come here all the time during the summer. We probably looked like dumbasses eating lunch here every day, but it was totally worth it.”