Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Zero to do with a relationship.
If she wanted to have sex with someone else, that was her right. But, fuck him, his jaw was clenched so tightly, if he didn’t loosen it soon, he might break some teeth.
Val’s in pig heaven right now came the next text from Sloane.
Hopefully Val was the only one.
Because the visions of Rez fucking Sloane under his roof and in his goddamn bed…
Rez was smooth and could charm the pants off most women.
Nothing stopped her from using Rez—or even Crew—to scratch an itch in the same way as she did Decker.
Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
Goddamn it.
He would have to change that.
He just needed to get home first.
And when he did, he hoped it wasn’t too late.
Chapter Eighteen
Sloane’s eyes popped open. She had a dream she was stuck on a dinghy in the middle of the ocean. It turned out the mattress was rocking and rolling because of one energetic four-year-old climbing onto the bed.
“Sloane…”
She cleared the sleep from her throat. “Hmm?”
“Are you gettin’ up soon?”
“Are you hungry?”
She nodded in the exaggerated way she did. “Yep.”
Sloane groaned, rubbed her hand over her eyes and dragged her fingers through her tangled hair. She reluctantly reached for her glasses on the nightstand and slid them on to check the time.
It was only six-thirty.
“It’s early,” Sloane grumbled.
Bouncing on her knees, Val shook the bed some more. “I know! But he woke me up.”
“Who? Finn?”
She shook her head. “No. Daddy did.”
Sloane jackknifed up into a seated position. “He’s home?” He had to have come home sometime during the night. Apparently, she’d been sleeping like the dead for once to not hear it.
Or he’d been extra stealthy so he wouldn’t wake anyone.
“Yes!”
“What’s he doing?” She smothered a yawn with her hand.
“Sleepin’.”
No surprise. He’d been riding in a tractor trailer for days. He probably didn’t get much sleep, if any. “I’m sure he’s tired from being away on a work trip.”
“But he’s in the tub and the water’s still runnin’.”
“What?”
Val nodded. “I was gonna wake him but my socks got all wet.” She stuck her foot out to show Sloane that her neon pink socks were soaked.
What the hell?
She kicked free from the tangle of bed covers, then, with another groan, rolled out and onto her feet. “Go put on some dry socks. Once you do that, go into the living room. I’ll put on Despicable Me for you, okay?”
“Yay!” Val bounced on her toes. “Minons!”
“Minions,” Sloane corrected her.
“Miiiinyyyyons,” Val repeated, wringing her hands in excitement. “And grumpy Gruuuuuuuuu.”
“Hurry, sweetie. Go get that done while I check on Daddy. Then I’ll make you something for breakfast.”
Val jumped off her bed and took off running with a squeal of, “‘Kay!” A scrambling of tiny paws could be heard as Finn tried to keep up with his mistress.
Sloane glanced down and, even though she wore a long baggy T-shirt that covered her panties, decided to quickly pull on some leggings before rushing out to the living room to cue up the movie.
Seconds later, Val dashed back out into the living room and flung herself onto the couch with Finn hot on her heels. Sloane pressed play on the remote, tossed it on the couch next to her and hurried toward the bathroom.
She paused when she found the bathroom door cracked open, most likely left that way from Val, and with a tip of her head, heard the water running.
“Decker?” she called out while rapping softly on the open door with a knuckle.
No answer.
She nudged the door open farther to see water spilling over the sides of the tub and the large puddle on the tile floor growing by the second. She immediately went over to shut off the faucet and plunge her hand into the hot water, flipping the lever to open the drain.
“Decker,” she said close to his ear while pressing a hand to his shoulder, trying to wake, but not startle, him. She shook him harder and began to get concerned when his eyes, circled in purple shadows, didn’t open.
She tweaked his nipple hard.
He shot up in the tub, slapping the spot where she’d pinched and flinging water all over Sloane. “Ow! What the fuck?”
He blinked a few times. His wet, black eyelashes were clumped together and droplets clung to the wiry Brillo pad he called a beard.
He looked like hell. Like he was run over by a tractor-trailer driven by a Demon.
“You wouldn’t wake up,” she explained, straightening and taking a step back. She barely caught herself in time when her foot slipped on the wet tile.
He blinked again and glanced around. She knew the exact moment when he realized where he was. “Shit.”
“You made a mess. Why didn’t you use the hot tub, instead?”
He shook his wet head and scrubbed both dripping hands down his face. “Figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. I guess I drowned those damn birds. Must’ve been more exhausted than I realized.”