Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I close my eyes as I listen to his voice. Even after all this time, the guy still makes me feel like a horny teenager. I grin at his message. That Crazy Jill is so annoying. In fact, all the women who are pining for my husband are annoying, but she’s like an extra special dose of fucked up. The woman is clearly taking the wrong meds. Get the picture already! He’s happily married with a baby on the way. He isn’t interested.
But then, the little bets we have make for some very interesting nights together. And it looks like tonight will be no different. I quickly type out a response.
Sophie - Hey big guy. I’m already thinking about all the ways you could take me over the kitchen counter. Actually, I’m not sure I’ll make it to the kitchen counter. I’m just finishing up work, I’ll be home within the hour. Love you.
Tank - I can’t fucking wait. I’m in the gym, I won’t be long.
With a grin, I tuck my phone into my pocket and quietly tiptoe to the bathroom door. I stick my head out and look up and down the hallway.
The coast is clear.
A burst of adrenaline rocks through my veins as I slip out of the bathroom, putting my hair up the same way Aimee had hers, and I steal her jacket off the back of her chair. I pull it on and walk through the office with my head down, making myself look as much like Aimee as possible, just in case there are any cameras or if some office rebels decided to stay behind during the evacuation.
Pulling the key card from my purse, I swipe myself into Christian’s office, feeling like a goddamn mastermind. I rush around the office with my head down, making sure to go as quickly as possible since I have no idea how long this evacuation should take. I find the filing cabinet I spotted earlier and get to work. Unfortunately, it’s all your typical construction shit with lists upon lists of clients.
I move to his desk and notice his bottom drawer is locked. Bingo.
Searching the office for a key, I head over to his bookshelf and find a photo frame of him with two older people, likely to be his parents. I lift up the frame and grin as I find a shiny silver key.
Too easy. What a rookie error.
Hurrying over to the desk, I hastily slide the key into the lock and give a quick turn, grinning as the key swiftly unlocks the drawer. I open it up and sure enough, there are four other files, all with the names of the four other leading construction companies.
I stare at it in shock for a moment. I can’t believe this shit is actually here. Personally, if I was going to be a slimy bastard like Christian Baxter, I would have kept this shit at home, locked far, far away from prying eyes. But when you get cocky, you make mistakes.
I flick through the files, taking quick snapshots of each slip of paper on my phone before placing each file back in the drawer in the exact same position. I look over Christian’s desk once again as the alarm comes to a stop and I realize it’s time to bail.
I return the key to the shelf, placing it under the frame before making my way out of his office and feeling my pocket to make sure I have my phone. After all, the second I’m home in front of my laptop, I’m going to be uploading the photos and studying each one very carefully.
After making my way back down the hallway, I slip off Aimee’s jacket, and place her key card on her desk. I shake out my hair and narrowly escape being caught by the Fire Chief as I slip into the fire escape stairwell and make my way down the thirty-eight flights of stairs.
My legs ache by the time I reach the bottom, and I do my best to blend in with the rest of the anxious crowd, desperately keeping my eyes open for Christian or Aimee. The last thing I need now is to be seen or recognized.
I manage to slip across the road and finally come to the safety of my car before jumping in and speeding away. A sharp laugh pulls from within as I fly through the city, unable to believe I just pulled that shit off.
Chapter 6
TANK
It’s just after four in the afternoon when I stride through my front door, more than ready for tonight’s naked cooking. As usual, I drop my hockey bag just inside the door and kick off my shoes. I can’t wait to go find my girl.
Seeing something in my peripheral vision, my gaze snaps up, and I stop dead in my tracks as my wife stands before me in nothing but a black harness, thick straps covering her body and leading down to a pair of thigh-high stockings, all connected to suspenders. But fuck, it’s the heels that get me. Always the fucking heels.