Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 31081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
7
It’s been two days since she sucked my dick, and it’s all I can think about. She’s already an addiction I can’t seem to rid myself of.
She thinks she’s ready to take this further.
I knew she wanted more the other night, and fuck, how I wanted to give it to her, but my inner alarm bells were ringing. Something’s not right. And when I saw her talking to my brother with apparent familiarity, it only made me want to get to the bottom of things. To understand who she is. Why she is the way she is.
We’ve been toying with each other like a cat and mouse and it’s making me crazy in all the right ways. I’ve had a lot of clients, a lot of sexual partners, but never has one brought out such an intense need in me. I want to devour her, and at the same time, take care of her. I want to take her fantasy and make it a reality, one she can handle. No, fuck that, not just handle, thrive within.
But first, I need more information.
Thankfully, the man with that knowledge is finally working.
“Where you been, man?” I ask, slapping my palms on the bar where he’s slinging drinks.
“I just spent my two days off buried between the thighs of a hot piece of ass.” He waggles his brows. “She has a sister.”
“That’s just wrong on so many levels. The answer is no, Rupert.” I chuckle at his antics.
“Why do you call me that? You’re such a dick.”
“It’s your name.” I smile smugly. I call him it to wind him up. Who hates their name so much they want to change it and ends up with Rocko?
“Only you and mom use my real name.”
“So, the other day I saw you talking to a brunette…” I change the subject.
“I speak to a lot of brunettes.” He grins, cocksure. But he knows this one is different. I know he does based on the glint in his eyes. She doesn’t see how fucking stunning she is, but every guy noticed her when she walked into this club that night. She was like a bunny in the trap of a thousand trackers.
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble. “For real. Spill.”
“Quinn.” Her name rolls easily off his tongue. “Remember I talked to you about her when I was in college?”
“You told me about a lot of girls in college. Wait, was she someone you’ve been with?”
That will irritate the fuck out of me if he slept with the girl I’m chasing. Literally. Not to mention if she were lying to me about it.
“No, she wasn’t like that. Quinny’s a good girl.”
A rush of relief drowns me. I don’t want to dissect why I was holding my fucking breath waiting for his answer. I’m losing my mind. This isn’t like me.
“Something happened to her,” he whispers, and my stomach drops.
Dread coils up my muscles. I know something terrible happened, but I’ve tried not to dwell on it too much. It pisses me off on her behalf.
“Do you know what?”
He pales and absentmindedly swipes the bar with a rag.
“Rupert,” I urge.
Shaking his head, he tells me, “No, not really—not facts. Her best friend Amy and I came home from a party. She’d left earlier, like an hour before us. When we got there, she was messed up. Her clothes were torn and clutched to her, bruises on her skin.” He shudders. “I think she was attacked, but she wouldn’t talk about it, wouldn’t let us help her.”
“So, you did what?” I growl. I shouldn’t be angry at him, but I am. I’m irrational because, dammit, I want to go back in time and help her. Kill whoever hurt her that night.
“What the fuck was I supposed to do? There was no one in the apartment and she wasn’t talking. Then she just fell off the planet. I don’t know.”
Someone calls him over, and he leaves me to make their drinks. My phone buzzes while he’s preoccupied.
Quinn: When are you going to come get me?
Me: It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?
Quinn: Did you get the key?
I shove my hand in my pocket and palm the key that had been mailed to me. Her key. She wants me to come into her home and give her the fantasy she craves. But the fantasy isn’t real if I tell her all the specifics.
Me: It must have gotten lost in the mail. Some evil postman has it now…
Quinn: Oooh, I’m so scared.
Brat.
“Why did you ask me about her anyway?” Rupert asks, startling me.
I tuck my phone in my pocket, not willing to share that detail. “I just saw you with her and was curious is all.”
He shakes his head. “You have no chance with her. She’s nothing like you or what you like.” He doesn’t say it unkindly. Just truthfully. Maybe not the Quinny he once knew, but the Quinn now is exactly my type.