Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Kelsey is obviously afraid of being with me. Or maybe she’s ashamed that her pussy burns for a dirty, rotten biker. Either way, this isn’t my jam, and I tell my cock to stand down because nothing else is happening today. I’m getting the fuck out of here as soon as possible.
The door swings open, and Kelsey’s smiling face appears.
“Sorry about that, it was just the housekeeper but…”
I put a hand up to stop her. “Don’t say one fucking word, Kelsey.” I shake my head, feeling my anger grow and swell into something dark and visceral.
“You got your kicks with a guy from the wrong side of the tracks, so let’s just get the fuck on with our lives. Fucking rich girls,” I mumble to myself and step out of the closet, making my way to the front door.
“Wait!”
I stop and turn back to her, annoyed and turned on and pissed the fuck off. “What?”
“The housekeeper is unloading groceries. Do you think you can just go out through here?” She moves down the hall about twenty feet and opens another door.
I frown. “This is a library.” One of those big-ass libraries you expect to find in castles, not in suburban California.
“Yeah, the windows behind the desk open to the garden. There’s a stone path that will get you back out to the street.”
At least she’s wearing a sheepish expression that says she’s uneasy about her request, but I don’t give a shit.
I nod at her request and walk inside the room, paying no attention to the details other than the expensive-looking rug I step on purposely as I make my way to the windows that look like miniature French doors.
One leg in and one leg outside the window, I turn to Kelsey with a dark look on my face. My jaws clench tight as I reign in my temper.
“Don’t ever come around my shop again. Your car will be delivered to you when the repairs are done.”
She wants to argue. I can see it in the determined set of her shoulders, but Kelsey wisely keeps her mouth shut.
Fucking rich girls.
Chapter Eleven
Kelsey
This is a fuck up. How I treated Coop, making him leave through a window? Yeah, that’s a major fuck up on my part.
I need to make it up to him.
Not that he wants me to make it up to him. He made that pretty clear when he growled at me to stay away before leaping out the window like an expert cat burglar.
It was hot as hell. At least it would have been if I didn’t feel like an asshole afterward. I made him leave through the window for the fucking housekeeper. Not that she isn’t a good housekeeper. She is, but not worth screwing up another orgasm with Coop.
Orgasms. Coop. Two things I want badly. Even now, days later, it’s all I can think about. He’s all I can think about. I have to find a way to make it up to him. I have to show up with something that will make it hard for him to send me away.
Food. I’ll start with food because even though I’m not after his heart but his cock, the saying still goes. Right?
“Hey Rubes, think you can give me a ride somewhere?”
“Sure. I’m in a meeting right now, but we’re hopefully wrapping it up soon. Give me twenty minutes. That work?”
“Sure.” My classes are done for the day, and I finished the required reading, I have nothing but time. “Think you can pick me up at The Best Little Sub Shop?”
Ruby laughs. “The place you worked at for like five minutes last year?”
I nod and shake my head with a smile. “It was more like three months,” I shoot back with a laugh, thinking of those disastrous three months making gourmet sub sandwiches for college students and tourists.
“But yeah, that’s the place.”
“I’ll shoot you a text when I’m on my way. Later.” Ruby ends the call with a laugh, and I get ready to see Coop.
The Best Little Gourmet Shop is a cute little shop with bistro-style tables and black and white checkered tile. This place is fancy for a sandwich shop with a dozen different bread options, cheeses from around the world, and more meats than I have ever seen at one place. And none of it is on display because the owners, Helena and Gino, believe it’s uncouth, so I stare up at the cursive writing on black chalkboards to see what sandwich would get Coop to talk to me.
“Kelsey! This is a nice surprise.” Helena comes out in her denim shirt with the shop logo over her heart, black pants, and matching ballet flats.
“Are you here to work for us again?”
Hell, no. I laugh and shake my head. “I’m here as a paying customer today.”
“Excellent! We have a few new items if you’re feeling adventurous.”