Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Knowing he’d put a ring on someone else’s finger was still enough to make me feel queasy now that he was right beside me in person.
I hated it. I hated that I gave even the slightest shit about any of it.
“Ready to go, then?” he asked, and I nodded.
I didn’t say anything as he said goodbye to his dogs and headed on out to the truck, just followed him and clipped myself in. I stared out of the window when he put the radio on, assuring myself that this was really still a nothing whatsoever. Just a stupid sex splurge. Just me seeking out a decent orgasm and not a scrap more. My mind was firmly churning on that when his voice cut over the radio.
“You do know I jerked one off in those dirty white panties this morning, I hope. Very nice.”
I shot him a glance to find him smirking, That usual filthy stare of his eating me up like a whore.
“You’re welcome to them,” I said, and forced myself to look back out of the window.
“I’d prefer them considerably more if you were wearing them,” he told me, but I didn’t respond, just gave him a turn left here and pointed him towards the city centre.
I directed him to my street, gesturing he should park up far enough along from my apartment entrance that nobody would stand a chance of seeing us. He pulled up, then turned in his seat to face me, eyes burning hard with that same filthy stare.
All he found waiting was another fake smile on my face.
“Thanks for a great one off,” I told him.
He tipped his head. “This is really a one off?”
I dropped down from the truck before I answered.
“Yes, Lucas. This is really a one off. Enjoy your next decade.”
I daren’t risk looking at him, just slammed that passenger door shut behind me and started walking. My heart was thumping, belly twisting, but I kept on moving, step by step, determined to get my head straight and leave that asshole behind where he belonged.
I thought I’d almost made it. I could see my apartment entrance when his voice called out across the street.
“Anna, just stop and bloody wait a minute, will you? At least let’s fucking talk about it.”
But I couldn’t.
I daren’t.
I wasn’t sure where that minute would ever stop for me if it started.
It was a huge relief when I reached my apartment doorway. I let out a sigh and threw myself into our communal hallway, dashing upstairs like the place was some kind of safe haven from Lucas Pierce cravings.
It wasn’t. I still felt them every bit as strongly as I ditched my bag onto the coffee table and opted to head straight through to the shower. If only I could scrub my brain down in the same foamy wash as the rest of me and get him away from my thoughts as well as my skin.
As it turns out, I didn’t make it that far.
Vicky was already up and in the kitchen, dressed in her work uniform with her blonde curly hair swept up in a bun for her checkout duties. She was chomping down on a piece of toast with her phone in her hand as I walked on through.
Until she saw me.
Her eyes widened as she clocked my appearance, mouth dropping. Mine widened right back, a shitty pulse of guilt no doubt blooming on my cheeks.
Horror. All I felt was horror.
And so did she. I could read it all over her face – she was both mortified and relieved at once, gulping in a breath before shaking her head at me.
I’d been caught in the act. There was no way this wasn’t caught in the I’ve been fucking Lucas Pierce act.
“I’ve been worried sick!” she screeched. “Your phone went to voicemail every time I tried to get hold of you last night. I wondered what the hell was happening to you! You could’ve been a total mess, convulsing in a ditch somewhere!” Her eyes searched mine. “Please don’t you dare tell me you’ve been with that asshole all weekend, Anna. Please, don’t.”
Oh shit. I’d fucked up with the phone thing.
There was no getting out of it, so I tried to play it down.
“It was a game of tennis,” I told her. “Just a stupid game that made the one off a bit longer. It was still a one off. It still is a one off.”
“Fucking hell,” she hissed, and her voice was genuinely strained. “You’ve actually been fucking that prick for two days straight?!”
I didn’t bother confirming with an answer, and she paced the kitchen as she carried on.
“What the hell is it about that jerk that has you out of your mind enough to hole up for a whole weekend with him?! Are you still losing your mind over that piece of shit?”