Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
I cross to stand in front of him, push to my toes and kiss him. “What was that for?”
“Because. Just because. Good luck. That’s all.”
He cups my head and kisses me, a real kiss, deep, sexy and fast. “You, woman,” he says and then, reluctantly it seems, he sets me away from him and heads down the stairs. I follow him and stand at the railing, watching him depart, his stride confident, predatory even, but underneath his killer persona, he’s human, he’s damaged. He’s a man surrounded by a stone wall meant to hide that damage and keep everyone away. And yet, I’m here. I know this man could ruin me. I know he could hurt me. I know he controls much of my future and that I need him. And yet, for reasons I can’t explain, I feel like he needs me, too.
Reid
I step onto the elevator, leaving Carrie behind in my apartment in my private space where I want her. At some point last night, I accepted that my obsession with Carrie isn’t going away. This isn’t about her perfect ass, or how much I want to fuck her. It’s more. This woman is under my skin in ways I didn’t think any woman could be under my skin. Beyond reason, I need her with me when I know all the ways this could end badly, but I can’t seem to care. I’ve never walked away from anything I wanted, no matter how hard the challenge, and I’m not starting with Carrie.
She was right. I want to own her, all of her. She’s mine. That very premise defies the way I’ve lived my life and all the reasons that being alone serves me well, but it’s too late to cut this off. Those reasons don’t matter now. It’s too late for me to walk away. But I’m done trying to save Carrie from me. Everyone else, yes, but not me.
Chapter thirty
Reid
Iplay the district attorney’s game and listen to his offer, right before I tell him to fuck off, quite literally, and walk out. I’ve made it halfway to the Maxwell offices when my phone rings and he ups the offer. “Still too low,” I say and hang up. He doesn’t call back right away, but he will. Sometimes, being an asshole to assholes really is the icing on top of the cake with this job. He needs to pay. People died and suffered because of him.
My minds goes to Elijah and I dial Royce Walker. “I need to control someone without ruining him but I’ll ruin him if I have to.”
“Why would you ruin him?”
“Because he tried to ruin me.”
“Why would you save him?”
“Because he took an emotional bullet I didn’t intend for him to take but I’m not taking a financial bullet to dry up his tears.”
“Name?”
“Elijah Woodson.”
“Give me a couple of hours. Anything else?”
“Yes. Do you know who Grayson Bennett is?”
“If you mean the billionaire businessman, yes. What about him?”
“This is out of your realm of services, but I need to win him over. I want to show him that I can find out what he likes, by way of a gift, and deliver that item to him today.”
“And this wins him over how?”
“It shows him I do my research. I find out what makes people tick and pleasure is part of what makes us all tick.”
“The John Walker, which will run you four thousand a bottle.”
“And you know this how?”
“We’ve done private security work for him for a charity event. I had the opportunity to talk with him over a bottle of that particular whiskey.”
“You are worth your money, Royce Walker.”
“Remember that when I raise your rates. I’ll be in touch.” He disconnects and my head starts to throb, as in literally, the way it used to when I was recovering from yet another too hard hit when I played football in school. I ignore the pressure at the back of my head and dial Connie and arrange to have the whiskey delivered with a note I custom dictate. By the time I’m done, the car pulls to the Maxwell offices. I enter the building, with one goal in mind: get my fucking brother off my ass. I enter the executive offices and ignore his secretary, Lulu, a thirty-something redhead with an attitude, and I do so based on principle. I don’t like any attitude that isn’t Carrie’s, and who the fuck is named Lulu anyway?
Gabe’s door is open and I walk into his office to find him on the phone. I shut the door as he glances up and eyes me. “Yes, father. I know, father. I know. You told me that three times.” He glances at the receiver and hangs up.
“What the hell is the crisis?” I demand, crossing to his desk and sitting down on one of the burgundy visitor’s chairs.