Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Bailey enters my mind, and I immediately shut her out. I don’t have the patience to solve that riddle tonight. My eyes grow heavy, and I succumb to sleep.
I awake to something or someone touching my thigh. What. The. Fuck? I open my eyes to find Monica on her knees, leaning over me. “Monica, what the hell are you doing here? Better yet, how the fuck did you get in?” I glance at the clock. It’s a little after 5:00 a.m.
She doesn’t stop trailing her hand up higher on my leg. A traitorous moan gives her the wrong idea. “Stop,” I say while grabbing her hands. She looks puzzled. I know it must be a shock.
“I still have my key from when I opened the bar for Carter a month ago. I waited for him to leave, and I came in. He stood on the corner forever, talking to someone on the phone.” She smiles a huge Cheshire cat smile. She clearly is impressed with herself. I, on the other hand, am not. I’m still tired. I just want to go home, shower, and then fall into my own bed for a couple of hours.
“Monica, you’ve got to go. This isn’t happening.”
She huffs but finally gets to her feet. “I’m not leaving. I stayed out all night waiting for him to leave so we could have alone time,” she whines.
“I didn’t ask you to do that. Get the fuck out. I’m tired, and you’re pissing me off,” I grate through my teeth. She holds her hands up in surrender.
“Okay, I’ll leave, but I’m going to be looking for a rain check soon, lover.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever you say. Out. Now.” I point toward the staircase.
Monica runs her red nails down my chest before kissing my cheek and sauntering off. She makes a display of swaying her ass as she goes. Typical Monica, never getting the hints that this won’t happen again. She’s already down the stairs when I realize I didn’t get my key back.
I yell down the stairs, “Monica, I want my key back!”
Silence.
I hear the door slam. She heard me, but she didn’t listen. I have to remember to get that key.
A worry for another time.
25
Bailey
I ran out of there so quickly it was like my ass was on fire. Well, in my case, it kind of was. Hours later and I can still feel him inside me, stroking the orgasm out of me. My body pulsating around him. My cheeks flush. God, I’m a hot mess. My boss had me lying flat on my stomach as he fucked me within an inch of my life, and I’m already craving more. I’m already daydreaming of when and where.
I need help.
My phone beeps in my purse.
Carter: Where the hell are you? Is everything okay?
Me: Everything is okay. I’ll text you later. I’m sorry.
I toss the phone back into my purse.
I’ve been walking the streets of New York since I hightailed it out of there. My legs are killing me, but I needed lots of air so I could think. I left the club a little after 4:00 p.m. without even notifying Drew or giving Carter any reason for my departure. I won’t have to quit. I’m going to get fired for that. I’m missing the first employee meeting since I was promoted. Not that it’s official. The paperwork I was supposed to do today? Yeah, that didn’t happen.
Internally panicking at the thought, I pick up my pace. Whether I quit or get fired, it will undoubtedly mean the end of my days in the city. I am out of options. Going home means dealing with my mother. The thought makes me ill.
I had sex . . . with my boss. Great sex. But seriously, how did I think that was going to end? Not with me running out like a chickenshit. I groan, feeling like such an idiot.
As I’m walking through Union Square, about to get to Park Avenue, I see someone waving to me and shouting my name. My initial thought is to put my head down and get my ass home.
“Bailey.” The voice and my name together have me stopping dead in my tracks.
Shit.
“Wow. How long’s it been?”
The answer came quickly. I knew exactly how long it had been. Two years. I have not bumped into Jet since the night I got mugged. I was partying with him, we got into a fight, and he left me. I ended up walking the streets alone. . . It was the wake-up call I needed.
“Two years.” I nod, scanning the area to plan my escape.
“What the fuck are you doing here? I swear I thought you died. One day you were there and the next day poof. Gone.”
Hiding from you.
“Yeah, I just needed to lie low. After everything that happened, I needed a change.”