Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
“Have—”
“I said, don’t.” I walk on but stop abruptly when a pair of familiar tits block my path. For fuck’s sake.
“You’re a bit overdressed, Jesse,” Natasha says, looking me up and down.
And I’ve had enough. I won’t have this a moment longer, the snide remarks, the goading, the sheer lack of respect for the woman I love.
I sidestep Natasha’s naked body and pull Ava on. “Have some fucking respect, Natasha.” I take the steps as fast as I’m comfortable with, knowing Ava’s in heels.
“I would like to send a memo too,” Ava mutters behind me, and every tense muscle loosens immediately. Sarcasm actually suits her right now.
“Whatever you want,” I say on a small laugh. And I mean it. I will give her whatever she wants. We round the landing, and I see John up ahead, running a routine check. “Sam? Drew?” I mouth, and he points downstairs. Fucking hell, they’re still abstaining? I look down at my watch. It’s gone eleven.
I take the steps down to the foyer, the space now sparse of members. “Do you want a drink?” I ask when we near the bar.
“Please.”
I detect melancholy and study her face, trying to read her thoughts. It’s a constant challenge.
“Why did you take me up there?” she asks. I can suddenly read her. Not her thoughts, but her expression. Accusing.
“You want me to be more open with you,” I say quietly. And I don’t want her constantly wondering about the infamous rooms of The Manor. Rooms I’ll never step foot in again.
“I never want to go up there again.”
“Then you won’t.”
“And I never want you to go up there either.”
And there we have the true issue. It’s me. Just me. How the fuck can I reassure her if she doesn’t hear me? “I’ve no need to go up there,” I say gently. “Everything I need is standing within touching distance, and I plan on keeping her that close.”
She nods. Swallows. Blinks. “Thank you.”
Why the hell is she thanking me? “You find Kate, and I’ll get the drinks,” I tell her, feeling at her face. She needs distracting. “Go.” I guide her to the door and watch her walk toward the summer room, willing every female member of The Manor to be wise. Be wise or die.
I turn toward the bar and exhale loudly, and Mario’s bushy Italian eyebrows lift. “Don’t ask,” I say, rubbing at my cheeks. “Can I get a water?”
One lands in front of me the moment I utter the words. “And for Ava?” He measures a small space between his fingers. “A very small one?”
I laugh, downing my drink, moistening my parched mouth. “Not even very small, Mario.” I slide the glass toward him. “And if she asks for another one this evening, leave out the . . .” I trail off, frowning. “What do you put in those things, anyway?”
“Ah,” he sings, laughing. “That is secret. Like Luigi and his lemon pasta.” He taps his nose. “Secret family recipes.”
“Right,” I say, pulling my phone out when it vibrates in my pocket. “Well, whatever it is, leave it out.” I look down at the screen and a message from Coral telling me she’s arrived at the hotel and checked in. I spin my phone in my hand, thoughtful. I thought she’d been cut off?
“Hey, Jesse.”
I turn and find Niles slumped on a couch, looking slightly roughed up. “All right?” I ask.
He grins, and when I look over my shoulder, the reason for his chirpiness becomes clear. Sarah, clad in leather from her tits to her toes, snaps her whip, making me flinch. “I’ll leave you two to it,” I say, skirting past her and heading for the summer room. “Enjoy.”
“Oh, we will.”
I stop and turn back, remembering I have a bone to pick with her. A whole fucking graveyard of them. “Why the fuck did you tell . . .” But . . . what’s the fucking point in calling her out? She doesn’t give a fuck, and I’m long past trying to make her care. I just need to make sure I don’t give her any ammo. I back away, Sarah watching me, her head tilting, a fraction of smugness being lost. “Never mind,” I say. “Have a good night.” I walk away and make it to the edge of the dance floor. The music is booming, and I spy the boys. I smile. What the fuck is wrong with those two? I see Kate and Ava, dancing like normal girls would dance in a bar. In the whole time I’ve owned this place, I don’t think I’ve ever seen two women dancing together like friends. Only perhaps with a man wedged between them. Foreplay. That was me once. Searching for anything that would make me feel . . . empty.
I shuffle my way through the crowds and make it to them, cocking an interested look at the boys that goes over both their heads. Has there been a change of plan? Kate’s bailed? Sam’s admitted he’s catching feelings? Drew’s told them to go it alone?