Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Leaning over, I snatched his up and then spent twenty minutes hacking into it.
Who needed that many password protections?
Apparently, Rafe did.
But whatever.
And his password. My god. Who actually used that many special characters, uppercase and numerics? My man. He was that weirdo. If I had a password like his, I’d spend half my time trying to figure it out.
Sheesh!
However, once I was in, everything was pretty straightforward. Until I clicked on the app that was running and saw…myself.
I froze.
Then I looked over at my computer screen. And back over to his.
What the fuck?
“You’re a little stalker, Rafe!” I whispered into the empty room.
I was honestly…proud.
Not mad, per se, but surprised. Surprised to find that he cared enough to track my computer—and me. It was honestly smart because my computer never left me. And this program he was running had to be the reason behind my computer running slow.
That little shit!
Shutting his computer down and acting like I hadn’t touched it or realized a thing, I went to work on a few projects for Free. I’d been working for a little over an hour and a half when Rafe emerged, my dogs closely at his heels.
“You ever go to sleep?” he questioned, his voice husky and full of promise.
I smashed my lips together to keep from belting out my wishes and demands until I had myself under control, then said, “I tried. It didn’t work out. So, I started working. And for some reason, I’m not the least bit tired yet. Though that could be the five-hour nap I had at five in the afternoon yesterday. I’ll probably crash here in a few, though.”
Rafe’s lips twitched as he started walking toward the kitchen, which was directly behind me.
“Guess it’s good that you don’t have to go to work like I do,” he mentioned.
“You don’t actually have to go to work,” I told him. “You’re just going to work because you want to at this point.”
He’d been working for the repossession company, Hail Auto Recovery, for a while now. Months and months longer than he actually had to.
At least I thought that was the case.
There was really no telling with how little he told me about his jobs.
“At this point, I work there because it’s a good cover. Not to mention I get good insurance,” he replied lazily.
I watched as he reached for his coffee mug—one of his favorites seeing as he had eighteen in the cabinets, yet always chose to wash that one—and pushed it underneath the Keurig’s spout.
“You know,” I told him. “It kind of surprises me that you have a Keurig. I would’ve figured you for a pot of coffee a day drinker, like my dad.”
He gave me a raised eyebrow that clearly relayed his non-amusement with the statement and went back to his cup.
Once it was filled, he brought the cup up to his nose, inhaled the aroma, and groaned.
I swallowed, thinking about the last time he’d groaned like that—when he was inside of me—and felt things clench.
“When you look like that, I’m not sure how to respond,” he said. “My initial response is to barrel toward you, spread your legs, and make myself at home. But trying to be a bit more laid back while recognizing the fact that your father will probably kill me if he sees a bruise on you has me, instead, staying over here and trying to think about things that’ll make my cock deflate.”
I snickered. “I don’t want anything that has to do with my father to take first place in our sex life. If it feels natural to you, just do it.”
He took a step forward, reaching his arm out to place his cup on the counter, and headed toward me.
I grinned, pushed my laptop to the side, and then made him late.
Forty-nine and a half minutes later, I was satiated. Well, and thoroughly.
“I gotta go,” he said as he zipped up his pants. “Lying there, looking at me like that, isn’t the way to make that happen.”
I stretched lazily in the bed, rolled over on my belly, and then closed my eyes. “It’s best that you’re leaving. I’m tired.”
His chuckle of amusement followed him around the room.
I felt the covers fall into place over my back, then Rafe whistled.
I turned only my head and saw Rafe calling my puppies to him.
He patted the bed, and both of my babies jumped into the bed with me, Glock on one side, and Kimber on the other.
“I named them after you.”
He looked over at me.
“Yeah?”
He sounded confused.
I grinned.
“The first time I saw you, you were carrying a Glock. The second time I saw you, you had that Kimber. The one with the slide that has the oil slick-looking finish. I thought it was pretty.”
His mouth opened, then closed, then he settled on a smile. “I kind of like that.”