Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
I know when I offer what the answer will be. While she might have kissed me without thought, the need to feel the connection between us as strong for her as it is me, she’s not going to be comfortable with her big brother knowing she’s naked under the water with me.
Her smile is rueful, but I wink for her sake, and then she turns my blood to lead.
“They didn’t allow Memphis to have any of his things in the program he was in, and he came straight here after earning his token. I offered to take him to get a few things today.”
My jaw clenches, but I nod, running my fingertips up and down her left arm. Program. Right.
“Okay.” I nod again. No big deal. I’ll be right there to watch his every fucking move. “What time are we going to Layla’s again?”
“I texted her a little bit ago, and she was happy to reschedule to Thursday.”
It’s already starting.
I run my tongue along the inside of my teeth. “You sure? You were excited to get things started, Layla too, from what I heard.”
“No, yeah, I am.” She nods swiftly. “And we will, soon, but Layla honestly seemed relieved, something about bandannas and chaps?”
“Oh, shit, that’s right.” I chuckle, despite the strain in my stomach. “It’s her birthday Saturday, and Wil promised her a tribute to Magic Mike.”
Davis’s eyes bulge, a small blush settling in when I raise a brow.
“What? Every girl has seen that movie.”
I log this shit for later. I want to know what it was in that movie that has her turning redder by the second.
“Don’t worry about Davis, Crew. I’ll watch out for her, and we won’t be gone long, but she said you have somewhere to be at four. We definitely won’t be back by then.”
My eyes slice to Memphis, holding, but before I say something I shouldn’t before I lift my woman and carry her to the room to seduce some sense into her, I kiss her forehead and walk straight into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
Is he fucking joking me? He knew good and well what he was doing, making sure I was out of the picture for the afternoon, and for what? To lie to her some more?
Program.
Yeah, fucking right.
His parents took out a second mortgage on their house to put him through one for the third and final time. He had sworn he was ready to get clean that last time, willingly putting his parents in deeper debt when they’d already pulled thousands from their savings in an attempt to help him over the years. What he didn’t tell them that last time was he had no choice, if he didn’t go into a program “willingly,” as his public defender put it, the courts here in San Diego County planned to throw his sorry ass in jail. One too many drunken arrests will do that.
There’s no way his parents would step in again, and by the way he acted when Davis excitedly suggested they call them, I know I’m right—not that he called them to ask.
Not that he called them at all.
When he bailed on the program and didn’t show for court, his dad cut him out, unwilling to watch the way his son hurt his mom with every move he made. Or didn’t make, depending on how you look at it.
Combine that and the fact that I would bet my life Memphis has not a dollar to his name, there was no fucking program. No reset in his life.
Once a liar, always a liar.
Davis doesn’t know this, and I hope she never has to learn, but liquor is not the only problem Memphis has, gambling is too.
The guy gets drunk and spends what he doesn’t have, tripling his trouble when bookies come knocking.
He said he “found me.”
Wonder who the fuck came looking first?
Davis can’t go out alone with him.
Guinness World Records would be impressed with the length of my shower—I’m in my room, angrily tearing clothes from my closet before the stupid fucking song playing in the living room loops into the next.
The door opens behind me, and I whip around, lip curled and ready to tell the motherfucker to slow his roll, to back the fuck up and get the fuck out. He might have my bed for the time being, but that’s only because I don’t need it. I have hers.
I have her.
But my eyes crash with whiskey-colored ones, and just like that, my mood shifts. Lifts.
She comes to me, her hands planting on my still damp neck and sliding up until her fingers are flitting across the short hairs near my ears.
My fingers follow suit, threading through her hair and tugging until her head is tipped back, giving me control. My tongue plunges into her mouth, and she kisses me just as hungrily, her breaths growing short and quick, so when she asks without words, pulling her lips free, I give her what she wants, closing my lips around the hollow of her throat, and sucking her skin until I meet her earlobe.