Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater Read Online T.M. Frazier (King #5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Biker, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Funny, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: King Series by T.M. Frazier
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
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Extremely contagious.

“Listen, Doc, I have no doubt that you were a coloring badass at one time. A Crayola savant, if you will. Unfortunately, that skill isn’t really going to work in this particular situation,” I said, nodding to the papers on her lap. “I need to create a paper trail so I look like an exceptional citizen in every way.” I leaned back against the door. “Like Martha Stewart.”

Dre lifted her head and scrunched up her nose. “Martha Stewart did time for insider trading.”

I sat back up. “Then John Stewart, or Tony Stewart, or whichever Stewart looks like someone the state would want to give a kid to. Fuck, even Kristen Stewart would do,” I said. “Although, I hear she’s a lesbian now, which is awesome by the way, but if she lived here they might not give her a kid ’cause Florida’s southern and very conservative,” I said, repeating Grace’s words.

“Well, we are in Florida, it doesn’t get much southern then that,” Dre said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We’re so southern that we’re below the bible belt. We’re like…the cock of the south.” Dre laughed.

“Did you know that gay marriage isn’t a thing here yet?” I asked.

“I actually did know that,” Dre said, tilting her head to the side while she went over the papers. “Well, I knew that. I can’t exactly say I’m up to date on current events just yet.”

Normally, when I went off on a tangent, especially to someone who didn’t know me very well, most people liked to call me out when I’ve veered off track and would try to and rein me back in. I was beginning to notice that Dre didn’t do that. In fact, every time my brain steered me off course, she’d let me go with it until I found my way back around on my own.

It was…different.

“Long story short is that I need to be a model citizen, and the list in that file tells us what we are going to need to make that happen. Since I can’t exactly prove a lot of that shit the legit way, I need your skills to create them.” I got out of the car and she followed, file in hand. I leaned against the hood and lit a joint, inhaling the smoke along with the salty air. Dre’s head was still in the papers as I continued, her bottom lip between her teeth. “At first, before Mirna told me what a diabolical genius you were with the forgery, I was going to get you a job at the clerks office and see what you could do to move things along. You know emails, files, signature stamps. Whatever might help,” I explained. “But when she told me you created the check itself, watermark and all…I figured we could use that talent to make a big dent in that list a lot faster.”

She didn’t answer, instead her face twisted like she was in pain. She shifted sideways pulling up one of her knees and unknowingly exposing a strip of white panties between her legs before rearranging her dress. The memory of her smell, the taste of her on my tongue, flooded my senses and had me momentarily forgetting why I was there, because Dre’s stunning-as-fuck pussy had shoved aside the red velvet rope and stolen the first spot in line at a club I desperately wanted to shove my cock inside.

If it was beautiful when it was battered, I couldn’t imagine how perfect it looked pink, puffy, and wet with excitement.

“Okay, but how the hell does it fix this shit with Mirna?” she asked. I offered her the joint and she rolled her eyes.

“Tell me, Doc. What are your plans when the assisted living place has an opening and Mirna moves to Sarasota?” I asked, blowing smoke rings out into the night.

She shrugged. “I hadn’t thought too much about it. I can’t go back to my dad.”

Actually, you could.

“Okay, let me be more direct. Where do you plan on living? Mirna’s?”

“Maybe. If it’s okay with her. I wouldn’t make any assumptions, though. I’d have to ask her.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. You can’t stay at Mirna’s when she moves.”

She pushed off the hood and stood in front of me. Any closer and I could pull her between my legs. “I think we should leave that up to Mirna to decide.”

“But it’s not up to her.”

She threw up her hands in frustration. “Then who is it up to?”

I grabbed the file and pulled out the warranty deed Mirna had given me earlier. “The big-dicked, well dressed motherfucker who owns the house, of course.”

* * *

DRE

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said, not believing what I was holding in my hand.

“Doc, I’m hurt. You know how very serious of a person I am,” Preppy said with his hands over his heart.


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