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)
Like fuck, we will. I hear the swat he gives her ass as the door swings closed on my exit.
I shoot a text to Nat to ask if she wants me to pick up food on the way home but get no reply. I don’t even want to dissect this shit Ronan was spouting. I will admit I care about Nat. Damn, she worked her way into my give a shit book when she relentlessly stalked me and gave me hell at every turn. But love?
My phone buzzes with an incoming text and my chest gets a weird fucking exciting thrill pounding in it. It’s not fucking love.
I stare at the screen and scowl. It’s not Nat, it’s fucking William.
William: Where are you? We were supposed to meet tonight.
Fuck. I forgot about him and that he asked to meet up tonight. I didn’t say for sure that we could. I’ve been blowing him off for fucking months because I still struggle with what happened with Kate. If I killed a girl, I’d not be eager to get back to the scene, to playing, but William is like a drug addict after a fix. He’s been relentless in his pleas to take him to the club, to let him join me in a session. I shoot back a reply and toss my cell in the passenger seat.
Me: Can’t tonight. I have work.
“Nat, wake up, beautiful. I brought food,” I call out as I push through the front door grinning, knowing how much she loves junk food.
The place is quiet. No lights are on, but a warm glow is seeping from the bedroom doorway.
“Nat?” I call, trotting inside to see the bed a mess but no Nat. Her sweatshirt is dumped on the end of the bed, but she’s nowhere.
I pull out my cell and try her number. It rings and then goes to voicemail. What the fuck? I shoot her a text.
Me: Where did you go? I brought dinner and planned to eat your sweet pussy for dessert. P.S. You still owe me a blowjob.
I collapse on the couch with the pizza I brought home and flick on an old episode of Game of Thrones. Damn, that dragon bitch reminds me of Nat. From a passive little princess into a badass dragon riding queen. I’m about to pull my dick out and rub one out when my cell dings.
A middle finger emoji followed with a text.
Nat: Blow this.
What the fuck?
Me: You’re acting like a brat. What the hell is your problem?
Nothing.
Has she gone crazy? Is this because I bailed to go sort shit out for work? Is this a relationship?
My head swims with confusion and a million questions. Fuck this. Abandoning the pizza, I grab my car keys and drive to her shitty apartment.
It’s fucking cold and damp by the time I get there. The clock reads 1:13 on my dash and I debate turning around and going back home. Since when the fuck did I become this guy?
The type running around after a woman.
Since her.
Turning the car off, I slip out and look up to see her lights on. I’m going to demand she stop being a diva and let me fuck her tight little cunt into a frenzy. Then she can get on her knees and beg for forgiveness for being a pissy bitch. I need to set the ground rules now if we’re going to keep this up—whatever the fuck this is.
The elevator is broken in her building, so I have to climb the three flights of stairs. She owes me for this crap. I ring her bell and step from foot to foot, trying to warm the fuck up.
“Nat, open the fucking door. I know you’re in there,” I grind out. She’s taking this too far.
The door flies open, and a seething firecracker glares at me. Dragon queen.
“So I worked later than I thought. You can’t just leave and have a tantrum.” I smile, lifting a brow at her. But she doesn’t smile back. Her posture is rigid, her lips pursed. Red swollen eyes make the green look piercing. “Nat?” I frown.
“This”—she waves a finger between us—“is done.”
“Done? Not happening, Nat. Stop being a brat,” I growl. I’m getting pissed off standing in the hallway arguing about bullshit with a chick I want to throttle not just for pleasure right now.
“I’m not a brat. You’re a fucking asshole.”
She’s like a different fucking person. Something’s crawled inside her and turned my nerdy, little beauty into a head case. “I was working. You’re being insane. Call me when you stop whatever the fuck this is.” I scoff, turning to leave. There’s only so much bullshit I’ll take from her ass.
She shoves me, palms flat on my back and all her might thrown into it. I don’t fucking budge, but she tried. Turning, I narrow my eyes on her.