Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
The house comes into view as we break through the trees into a short clearing. The water in the lake is dark. Everything is getting gray as clouds move across the sky.
“It looks like a holiday home,” Simone says breezily.
She’s right. I keep it clean and maintained on my trips to my safe houses, usually every three months. Some creepers have returned, but they’re clear of the roof, and the faded wooden structure looks sound.
“There are clothes inside and food, too. Nothing stylish. Nothing tasty, but we’ll be safe here while I make some calls.”
“To figure out who shot at us?” Lena asks, looking up with that stubborn, tough glint in her eyes. My woman is clearly in a determined mood.
I nod, but she keeps staring. She knows I’ve got a suspicion, and it’s eating me up. She can read me far too easily. Damn, it’s bad of me, but I find myself wishing Simone wasn’t here. Or that we had a separate, secure lake house. Simone could stay in Lake House Number Two while I indulged in all my darkness with her daughter, while I owned her body, spanked her thick…
I grit my teeth and push on, not letting myself think about that.
I sit on the porch, looking over the lake, my senses alert and my gaze scanning the trees. The upside to this place is that it’s difficult to find. It’s not listed anywhere. I’m the only one who knows about it. The downside is that if gunmen were to emerge from the trees, I’d have less time to react. Demon lies beside the lake, watching.
Russel sighs down the phone. He’s been working with intelligence agencies for years. After the SEALs, he joined the CIA and is now a freelance operator. “This is tough.”
“I’m asking you to save my ass twice, I know,” I reply.
Russel laughs grimly. “I’d still owe you. Popping the cork on that narco wasn’t exactly hard, but this will take time. I’ll need to be careful. If there’s a hit on you… I don’t know, man. It’s a challenge. Do you have any ideas?”
I bite down. I should tell him, but I can’t let my mind go there. Maybe that’s cowardice. “Call me on my third cell when you have something.”
“Will do, brother.”
I end the call, then take out the SIM and place the phone and the SIM in a sealed box that blocks any signals. I won’t use the same phone twice here, just in case. Not that this attacker would have any way of knowing which burners I’m using. Still, when my woman’s involved, paranoia is an advantage.
The door beside me opens. I stand quickly. It’s Lena, her hair tied up, wet from the shower. She’s wearing a plain, long-sleeved black shirt and pants a size too big. She hasn’t got a bra on, her nipples shaping the fabric, swaying as she gestures inside.
“Mom’s taking a nap,” she says. “You said to tell you if we went anywhere.”
“Which bedroom is she in?”
“The one at the end of the hallway.” Lena looks so damn shy and hot. She takes a small step toward me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I walk to the edge of the porch and lean against the wooden railing, looking out on the water. “Talk about what?”
She moves up beside me, standing close. Our arms almost touch. The thought of making contact with her has me howling inside. I’m getting hard just thinking about it. “The person who shot at us. You know who it is.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know, Jamie. Maybe because you said you had an idea. Maybe just everything about the way you’re acting.”
I glance at her and smirk. She’s got that stubborn expression that ignites me so quickly. “Maybe I’d rather talk about you.”
She rolls her eyes and tries to act like my words have no effect on her, but she can’t hide her desire from me. It’s in every inch of her body and how her eyes flit around like she can’t look at me. She finds it as difficult as I do, looking at her. My cock is rock hard, the head bulging.
“I think that’s called changing the subject.”
I move closer, even if I shouldn’t. It’s not like Simone is in a different state. She could walk out and catch us any second if I give into this need.
I didn’t like how she reacted at the house when I called the relationship a story. She started mumbling, saying it wasn’t a story, as if it was more than that. I don’t know what game she’s playing, but she’s too vulnerable right now for me to press her. I won’t do that to my woman’s mother. Yet it’s making things difficult with her daughter.
“What do you want to do, Lena?” I ask. “In life. In the future.”