Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“I’m about to explode!” he blurted out at last.
An untamed groan escaped his lips as he jabbed inside of her, spilling his climax in copious waves. She gasped in sweet agony while his uncontrollable groans and curses grew more intense.
“Yes, baby! I feel you cumming inside of me… deep inside of me!” She shuddered as he jerked, emptying the last of himself within her honey walls.
The chains soon settled, and all that was left was their heavy breathing, the slippery sweat between their bodies, the warmth in the room, and the sounds of ‘Leave With Me,’ by Yeek. He felt her chest vibrating, followed by a sexy laugh escaping her mouth. He looked into her eyes and smiled.
“What?” he asked, then kissed her chin.
“You are nothin’ like what you look like, Nikolai. It is so crazy. Like, as we were making love, I was listening to the songs playing. You have the best damn playlists. ’90s rap music, jazz, rock, everything. I love it. I was just hanging here from these chains thinking about that, you know, and… wait…” She looked up at her wrists, still bound. “…That doesn’t even sound right! Get me down from here, weirdo! I guess I’m a weirdo too, for liking it, but that’s not the point!”
They were both laughing now.
He reached up, slipped the heavy chains from the hook, and untied her wrists. Tossing them aside, he wrapped himself around her. She slumped into his arms, resting her crown against his chest. Their naked bodies fit perfectly together, as if cut from the same mold.
“I love you, Porsche…”
“I love you, too. I’ve got good news, but I won’t share it with you since you’re afraid it could cause me regrets.”
He nodded and kissed the top of her head.
“It’s best I don’t know. Whatever the good news is, just understand that I’m happy for you. You’re a good officer. A good detective, too. You’re a good person… of course you got good news. That’s how these things go…” He held her a bit tighter, savoring the moment, because just like the saying went: ‘All Good things must come to an end…’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
…One week later
You can’t appreciate the tree without understanding the importance of the roots.
You can’t love the rhythm without acknowledging the blues.
Rotten fruit spreads its moldy embrace and infects the entire crate of bounty.
One bad apple spoils the whole bunch… or so they say.
At least, that’s how the sayings go… and the way I’m feelin’ right now,
I believe ’em all…
Over the past few days, I’ve come to understand a thing or two. If you think something doesn’t seem to make sense, more times than not, it doesn’t. I wasn’t raised to not believe what was right in front of my very eyes, but I grew into an adult who questioned the obvious—because sometimes, the truth isn’t obvious at all.
Whatever you suspect is the issue is usually just the tip of the iceberg. Thankfully, I have an icepick and the stamina to climb the glacier and start hacking. Somewhere buried deep inside the icy chasm is where the harsh truth lies. I’m going to find it, or at least die trying.
The man who spoke during the radio broadcast made her burst into a cold sweat. His words ate at her brain like acid. There’s no way!
Porsche turned off the radio, snatched her black leather purse from the passenger seat of her car, and marched into the police precinct. She couldn’t recall the last time she was this incensed, but the few times she’d been worked into such a rage, it never fared well. The sky beat her with a watery fist, but she didn’t give a damn about her hair or her clothes, or trying to dodge puddles even. Getting drenched was the least of her concerns. Her heavy tan trench coat swung so hard as she practically flew like an eagle to the precinct front doors. It almost caught in the door when she swept past someone who was exiting, narrowly avoiding a head on collision.
Inside, the all too familiar scent of fresh coffee, pastries, and strong perfume assailed her. She bypassed the front desk where the receptionist and officer sat.
“Ms. Lee, can I help you?” the officer asked.
“Nobody can help me but me,” she mumbled.
“Porsche!” the man called after her. That was followed by footsteps approaching her from behind. She stopped in her tracks and swung in his direction. He came to a halt in front of her.
“That’s Detective or P.I. Lee, to you!” She turned away from him and kept moving, now in a full sprint toward Captain White’s office. She banged loudly on his door with a hard fist. “White! Open up!”
She beat and pounded on it until finally, the door opened, exposing bright light and soft elevator music on low volume. There he stood in his starched uniform, phone in his hand. Their eyes latched onto one another like magnets.