Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
His infidelity disgusts me, not because I have some moral high ground but because Sharma hasn’t changed.
He’s still the lying, conniving asshole he was when he was a teen.
I shake off those thoughts and keep my mind on what’s next. After they’ve been inside for a few minutes, I move in to get a closer look, watching as they move around the small apartment like two people in love. He’s helping her cook dinner, though in reality, he’s doing more touching and kissing—more teasing than actual cooking—but Lea doesn’t seem to mind. Her smile is bright. Love radiates from her face.
And I would know because I see it in Francesca, the way she looks at me or the way she smiles attentively when she’s listening to me. She might not have meant to tell me she loves me, but she’s not doing much to hide it.
I see it though. I see it and I know it, the same way I’m sure Adrian does.
My phone buzzes and I see on the screen it’s Frankie. “Hello?”
“Hey. Is this a good time to talk?” I love it when Frankie is happy and confident. Her voice has this lilt to it that’s almost melodic.
“Of course. How’s your day?”
She sighs heavily. “Good. Tiring but good. Yours?”
“Can’t complain, at least not too much. Woke up with a beautiful woman in my arms, made some progress at the office and now I’m just…” I pause in search of the right way to explain it. “Giving some details a little closer attention.”
“You said being a total workaholic wrong,” she teases.
“I have to. A very demanding lady detective made me whisk her away on an impromptu vacation and had her wicked way with me.”
A soft moan escapes, sounding doubly erotic in the dark of Lea’s apartment complex. “It was deliciously wicked.” She let out a soft yawn. “I look forward to doing it again.”
My cock twitches against my zipper at her words and for once I wish I was with her instead of prowling. “We will soon, my pet. I’d love to make you cry out my name again.”
Her gasps break up my teasing.
“I’ll bet you can hardly keep your eyes open. You’ve been working too many hours and then you come home and work a few more. You’re going to burn out.”
She growls. “Are you kidding me? I was just on a three-day vacation, and I am totally refreshed.” Another yawn interrupts her words. “Yeah okay, maybe I could use a few hours of shuteye.”
“Good. Think of me as you drift off to sleep, Francesca.”
She lets out a sleep sigh. “I’m always thinking of you, Damien. Good night.”
“Sweet dreams, my pet.” I end the call with a smile on my face that I can admit has more to do with the woman than it does to do with the fact that I’m thisclose to having her where I want her.
She loves me, sure. But she’s not quite where I need her to be.
Not yet.
Until then, there’s the matter of Adrian.
CHAPTER TEN
Frankie
Damien was right. I’m exhausted. But the serial killer we’re after? He’s probably the only one in this whole damn city getting a good night’s sleep. The police are hunting him; the press is obsessed with the story, and everyone else is barricaded at home, praying he doesn’t show up at their door next.
The entire city is terrified of this guy, and it feels like we’re no closer to catching him than we were a month ago. Or two months ago. “I have to find something.” The stress, the sleepless nights—it’s starting to wear on me. And for someone who carries a gun, that combination could be dangerous.
Jay bursts into our small office, the smell of coffee and breakfast filling the air. He’s gripping a cardboard cup holder with two coffees in one hand and a brown paper bag that smells like greasy heaven in the other. Normally, that would make my stomach growl.
But not today.
“Oh God, what the fuck,” I mutter, grabbing the small metal trash can beside me just in time. I hunch over it, emptying this morning’s coffee into it as my stomach flips and twists. I gag until there’s nothing left, my body trembling from the sudden nausea. “Ugh, where did that even come from?”
Jay, ever unbothered, raises an eyebrow. “Guess you’re not in the mood for the donut, bacon, and cheese sandwich I got for you?”
I shake my head, still holding the trash can close. “Definitely not. But thanks for the thought.”
His brows dip low as he stares at me, sizing me up. “What the hell is up with you?”
“Don’t know. Maybe I’m catching something from all the late nights hanging out in church basements.” The anonymous groups haven’t panned out. They were all pretty tight-lipped, and some were disdainful and mistrustful of law enforcement. “I’m fine. Just need something like a Sprite.”