Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I pushed up from the couch and extended a hand to the still-seated Richie. “Thank you for the opportunity. I’m sure we will have a long and prosperous future.”
Richie shook my hand, then held it tightly for a moment longer than necessary. His dark eyes trained on me. “I hope you’re right, Starr. I don’t like to waste my time. But, if you show up and make an idiot out of me, I’ll make sure Elise was the last piece of ass you’ll ever have.”
Richie’s ominous parting words echoed through my head on the drive back to my hotel. I’d moved to a cheap hotel just off the Hollywood tourist area, but I took the scenic route to ensure no one was following me. The place was a far cry from The Beverly Hills Hotel, but I didn’t care. It was clean, had decent in-room coffee, and a soft bed. That was all I really needed.
Couldn’t complain.
But as I entered my room, the silence was deafening. I’d spent the last three nights with Harlowe, letting the blonde keep me from thinking…about anything. Before that, it was Phoebe, a busty brunette I met in the beer aisle of the local corner store. We’d spent two nights banging on every flat surface in her apartment a few blocks from my hotel.
Tonight, though, I was alone. I slipped out of my suit jacket and went to the mini-fridge, pulled a beer from the cardboard sleeve of the six-pack, and cracked it open on my way to the bed. I flipped through the dozen or so channels when I found some deep-sea fishing show. I didn’t care about the show. But the calm voices helped take the edge off my shot nerves.
The meeting with Richie had been more intense than I’d expected. I could only imagine what tomorrow would be like. Of course, I knew I’d have to show the goods at some point—but the thought of what was ahead had me re-thinking the entire plan.
“Damn,” I sighed, raking my hands through my hair.
I knew what I was getting into. At least, I thought I did—but now that I was hurling myself into the middle of the Sanderson syndicate affairs—I realized I had no fuckin’ clue.
Things could go upside down, sideways, or just plain fucked up.
I blew out another long sigh and followed it up with a long pull of my beer.
This was why I shacked up with random women from bars and corner stores. Buried between a pair of lush thighs, I didn’t have time to think about all the unpleasant things the Sandersons would do to me if they knew who I really was. What I was really doing. What I really wanted…
I pulled my phone from my pocket and saw half a dozen messages from a local number. It didn’t take more than half a second to realize they were from Harlowe. The texts started out friendly, then progressed to worried, and eventually ended in impassioned disgust.
“So much for a quick lay,” I said, tossing the phone onto the bedside table once I checked to make sure there weren’t any other messages.
Elise, from the club, was a good fuck. I should’ve gotten her number. Maybe she’d be up for a second round. Then again, she obviously knew Richie since he’d asked her about a wire. Did she work for him? Or did he pay her to check?
Either way, I couldn’t ride that ass again. Too risky.
The fishing show bored me. So I flipped around a little more and then turned the damn thing off altogether.
I polished off the beer, dragged my ass to the shower, and rubbed one out while washing away the remnants of my encounter with Elise. Fantasizing about her rose-scented hair, cherry red lips, and peachy round ass.
Perhaps my favorite thing about her was that she looked nothing like my ex, Tori Barnes. The love of my life.
At the realization, I growled and flicked off the water. I stepped out of the shower, dried off, and then went to bed and hoped the beer would be enough to knock me out.
Instead, Tori was waiting for me as soon as I closed my eyes.
I hadn’t seen her for months. Almost a year, in fact. But it didn’t seem to matter. Her memory was just as clear as if I’d just had coffee with her hours before.
She was a natural-born redhead, auburn and copper, with little strands of gold in the summer when the sunlight lightened her long hair she always wore loose, air-dried half the time—untamed and wild, just like the girl herself. A heart-shaped face with bee-stung lips, a wicked smile, and blue eyes so clear they rivaled the perfect waters off the coast of Fiji.
She was impossible to forget. Believe me, I’d been trying forever.
CHAPTER SIX
Bennett
By some small miracle, I fell asleep and made it all the way through until sunrise. Once awake, I grabbed some in-room coffee and hurried to get dressed. Now that Richie and I had officially met, I wasn’t going to risk following him around all day—but I had a few other people to check on before the meeting at the club.