Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26161 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Accusers don’t usually let you stick your tongue down their throat, though.
Tonight, she’s let me kiss her, bite her, and fucking squeeze her pretty throat. All it did was awaken the beast inside of me. My beast is hungry for her. It won’t be sated until it’s feasted on her. I drag her outside and pull my phone out. Quickly, I text Ronan. Berlin Scandal is badass. We’re signing them. Tomorrow I’ll call them and give them the good news. Earlier, before the show, they seemed so hopeful. Most bands want to be signed by Harose. These kids are lucky because their dream is about to come true.
I find my midnight blue 2020 Porsche 911 and hit the key fob to unlock it. Natasha gives me a wary look as she tugs on her jean jacket, but when I open the passenger side door, she slides into the car. I close the door and then join her inside. The engine purrs like a kitten. Zipping out onto the road, I throw her an expectant look.
“You wanted to talk?” I ask, weaving in between cars.
“Where are we going?” she squeaks out in return.
Not this again. “Jesus, Nat. I’m not going to kill you. It’s getting old.”
“I don’t think you’re going to kill me,” she huffs. “I just want to know where we’re going. Are you always a dick?”
Smirking at her, I shrug. “Honestly, the only person I’m a dick to is you. You bring out that endearing quality.”
“Asshole,” she mumbles.
“You hungry?”
“Yeah.”
Her response shocks me, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I whip through a drive thru. We order a couple of value meals and then I head back home. She munches on fries almost happily. Noted. I’ll feed your pretty mouth if that improves your mood, beautiful.
I pass my brother’s gated community and drive to my condo. He’d lectured my ass for weeks when I didn’t buy a house, but instead bought a condominium. I’m one guy who’s hardly ever home. I don’t need a giant, empty house like Ronan. It’s depressing as fuck.
As soon as we pull into the underground garage and park, I grab our food and my drink, leaving her with just her drink. We take the elevator until we’re on the top floor. I unlock the door and push inside my condo that smells like cinnamon. It’s something that only my brother knows. Cinnamon reminds me of Mom—of home—so it’s the one thing I always have. The cinnamon scented candles are the same kind she used before cancer took her twelve years ago when I was a junior in high school.
I drop our food on the coffee table, kick off my boots, and then drop onto the middle cushion of the sofa. Natasha remains rooted by the door, but eventually she mimics my action. Her tennis shoes get left beside my boots and she sits next to me. We eat in comfortable silence. It isn’t until we’ve tossed the wrappers into the bag that she speaks again.
“I found a note. I think it means something,” she says, turning her troubled face my way. Her green eyes flicker with uncertainty as she digs in her pocket. Once she pulls out the note and hands it to me, I tense.
He doesn’t love her. She’s an accessory to him. I’m real. I know he won’t marry her. Not when he has me on the side. I know what he likes because I like it too. It has to be enough.
“You never had a fiancée.”
Fuck.
She really is a little detective.
“You got me,” I deadpan.
She rolls her eyes. “You also don’t wear suits.”
“Fuck no,” I bark out. “That’s more my brother’s gig.”
Her brows furl together. “Is your brother engaged?”
Oh, hell no.
“Ronan didn’t kill Kate,” I bark out, my urge to protect my brother rising up inside me like the swell of a tide.
She studies me for a moment. “I believe you.”
A laugh bursts from me. “Since when?”
“You just have to push,” she snaps. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“If you have to try, it’s not genuine,” I tease.
“You didn’t kill my best friend. But I think you know who did.”
“You should take off your pants,” I suggest, changing the subject.
She parts her lips, shocked at my words, so I kiss that surprised mouth of hers. Her tongue tastes salty from her fries. I devour her perfect mouth as my hands greedily tug at her jean jacket.
“Ren,” she groans, breaking our kiss. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you naked,” I rumble.
“I think we shouldn’t...”
“Shhh, sweetness, you think way too much. Just feel for once.”
I pull her jean jacket off and then her tank top, making her shiver. Her black bra lifts her full tits in the most deliciously tempting way. I need to see her nipples. Pushing her back against the cushions, I tug down at the cups on her bra, freeing each breast. Her rosy pink nipples are hard. Each one begs to be bitten and licked. Her gulp is audible, making me hungry. I waste no time putting one in my mouth. I suck hard enough to make her cry out, then soothe away the hurt with my tongue. Her breaths come out ragged and desperate. I make quick work of undoing her jeans. A nervous whine escapes her when I jerk them down her thighs along with her panties. Her smooth cunt is tempting as fuck. I cannot wait to suck every bit of her essence from those pale lips between her thighs.