Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 148188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
“I’ll see you later,” she says before heading back toward the kitchen. I slip out the front door, not sure what I’m going to do for the rest of the night. When the evening air hits my face, sadness fills me. Even if I wanted to find Tomas, I wouldn’t know where to start. I grab a cab, telling the driver to head to my place. I do what I told myself I wouldn’t and start googling Tomas. There’s this need inside of me to know more about him. I know that it’s not going to change anything, but that doesn’t stop me from sucking up every piece of information I can get on him.
Everything I find on him only makes me like him more. He is a master at what he does. I click on a few videos, watching him in the ring. He isn't graceful or quick on his feet like I’d assumed fighters were. His blows are direct. He packs a devastating punch. He doesn't dance around the ring or showboat. He stands there like a wall of pure muscle until he’s ready to strike. Then in a blink of an eye, his opponent is on the floor and they are raising his arm in victory. I’m not even sure if he breaks a sweat before the match is over. Everything happens so quickly. All the footage of his fights is the same.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by me that his body is in tip top shape. Each muscle is defined, as though he’d worked each of them until they looked perfect. My mouth waters to run my tongue along them.
“Change of plans,” I tell the driver, giving him the address to the place I’d snuck out of this morning. I am going to take a page from Alyssa’s book. There’s no harm in doing a little stalking of my own.
5
Tomas
“I should have known this was going to be bad when you agreed to train with some of my pups,” Clyde grumbles under his breath. The excitement is long gone from earlier when he’d asked if I’d go a few rounds with his guys now. I glance over to the four men I’ve already gone toe to toe with.
They aren't looking too good. Each one of them has a cold compress pressed against one of their body parts. They took their best shots at me, but like all my other opponents, they lost. I should feel bad but I don’t. If you step in the ring with me, you’d best believe that I’m bringing my A game. I don’t care if it’s practice or the real thing. I treat every sparring session as though it were a title fight.
“I didn't hit them in the head,” I half-heartedly defend myself. I no longer have a whole heart to try to defend myself with. My little pixie took it with her this morning when she slipped out on me. I still don’t know how the fuck that happened. I’d been out like a rock. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so good in my life. Then I woke to hell. I was all alone. Again. Now the silence that I used to enjoy so much is deafening.
“You want to tell me why you’re more pissed than normal?”
“I never volunteer to help with your-” I look back to the men, who are all still growing. “Pups.” They look like grown men to me. I wouldn't have laid into kids the way I went at them. I was doing them a favor in the long run. It’s good for them to take some hits. We all have to take them at some point.
“This about that girl?”
My head snaps back to Clyde. “What girl?” There is only one girl. Still, I wonder how the hell he knows about that? Clyde isn’t into gossip usually. He never reads headlines unless they’re about fights. I didn't see anything posted about last night online. We were at Sean King’s club but I didn’t even notice anyone taking pics of us.
The owner of the club runs a pretty tight ship when it comes to people’s privacy. Especially when it comes to his VIPs. At least that’s what I was told when I started digging this morning. His staff keeps their mouths shut and their phones in their pockets. Still, it doesn’t mean some random person didn't snag a picture. Not that it matters. It could help me find her faster. I was so consumed with my little pixie last night that I didn’t get any information on her. I thought I would have time, but she obviously had something else in mind.
“I make it a habit to know what my fighters are doing.” I start ripping the wraps off my hands. I need to get out of here. This isn't helping me burn off the energy that has been humming through my body. I know only one thing will do that. Her. But first I have to find her—and I will find her.