Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“You mean Popeye, right?” I ask and start trying to tug down the sheet.
Holding it tightly, she glares at me. “Wallet, food, clothes, and then maybe sex.”
“Fuck,” I grumble as I start sitting up. “How the hell are you going to get all that stuff through my phone?”
“There are multiple services that will deliver food from restaurants for a small fee. There are also these things called online stores that will deliver books, clothes, and anything else you can practically think of the same day if you pay enough. Other than that, I’m going to try and call Lucifer’s wife, Lily,” she says before she returns her attention to the phone.
Those last words stop me dead in my tracks. “Why the fuck would you want to do that?”
Shrugging those beautiful shoulders of hers, she says, “Because she told me to call her if I needed help setting up the house.”
“I wasn’t aware you had been discussing our home yet.”
“You were in that office for over an hour and a half. We had to talk about something.”
She makes a shooing motion with her hand.
“Are you fucking shooing me?” I ask.
Treating me like some fucking kid, what the fuck?
“No. I’m telling you to hurry up and help feed your fucking wife. Remember those vows you reamed into me last night while you were plowing me?” she asks without the faintest hint of a laugh or smirk.
“Fucking hell’s gates,” I grumble as I turn back to the door of the bedroom.
“I thought it was funny… reamed and plowed…” She laughs at my back.
She’s going to find it real funny when I’m cramming my thick ass cock so far into her she starts to fucking choke.
* * *
Times sure have fucking changed since I went in. Just the fact alone that Meghan can have food, clothing, and I’m pretty sure anything else on the planet delivered to us is amazing. For most of the morning, I was answering the door. First came the food she ordered from some local mom and pop place. She must have ordered half the damn menu with how much food showed up.
Sitting there, watching as she demolished everything in front of her as quickly as I did, was an interesting turn of events. She’s not the type of woman to order water and salad. No, she eats what she wants and doesn’t apologize for it.
“Quit fucking staring at me,” she says when she finally looks up from the phone and plate in front of her.
“No,” I say before I take another long look at her.
She’s fucking beautiful, why shouldn’t I?
“Ugh,” she grumbles at me before looking back down to the phone.
“What are you doing now?” I ask as I go back to eating the last of my breakfast, still watching the way she sits there, her eyes flaying across whatever it is she’s doing.
“Ordering more clothes. I had no idea how much influence Lily has with this city’s retailers. All I have to do is mention her name and the clothes practically fly themselves to this house.”
“What’s wrong with what you have on?” I ask, and from the look she gives me, I obviously haven’t been paying attention to something.
She’s got on a pair of black fleece-lined leggings and a tight heavy metal band shirt. And while I’ve got no clue about when these things came in style, I’m damn thankful she loves wearing them. She should, at least, since she ordered ten pairs of them. Fuck me, I’ve never seen a woman order so much clothing.
It’s mind-numbing to think about until I ask the one question I should have asked in the first place. “How much is all this costing?”
“Madness and sanity… You said those words. So, therapy it is. Retail therapy,” she says, looking back down at the phone. “Also, I need a phone too. Can you ask for one on this plan or do I need to order that too?”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” I growl out as I stretch out my arms. “I’ll check on the phone. Operational security is going to put a lot of restrictions on what you can get.”
“I’ve had this phone the whole time and you haven’t once checked on what I’m doing.”
“No need. Nine-one-one has been disconnected, and I’m pretty sure all the stuff you’re doing is being monitored by that prick, Simon,” I say with a lazy shrug of my shoulders. “Besides, we’ve established you’re in this for the long haul, just like me. I’m going to trust you. That’s not something I do much of. You could try to run like you did last night, before you came into the shower… But you came back.”
Looking up from the phone, I can see she’s contemplating my words. Her eyes narrow as she realizes everything I said.
“How did you know?” she asks.