Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Hello?”
“Um, hi!”
I recognize Lexi’s voice.
I blow out my breath, short on patience and high on suspicion right now. “Why are you calling me here?” I demand. I don’t even know how she got the number. “I’ll call you right back.” I hang up and call back with my new cell phone.
“What the hell, Lexi? Landlines are almost always tapped. Now the Feds have your number, you know. Did you want to be on their watch list?”
“Oh God. I’m sorry.” She sounds nervous. “I just—”
I interrupt. “Why didn’t you call my cell? I texted you the new number.”
“No you didn’t!” she protests.
Now I’m fully annoyed because I definitely did. Then another realization hits home. “Where did you get my home number?”
She doesn’t answer.
Fanculo. The last thing I need right now is female drama. Another psycho girl like Stacy hounding me at the same time I have the feds breathing down my neck.
I need to see her face to get to the root of this. “Are you at the apartment?”
“Um, yes, uh huh.” Her voice is overly-agreeable.
“I’ll be right over.”
I drive to my apartment building, trying to decipher her behavior. She says she didn’t receive my text with my new number. But how and why did she dig out my home number? And the fact that she went to the trouble bothers me.
A lot.
There’s a reason I don’t want a girlfriend. I want things on my own terms–not on hers. This feels intrusive and needy.
Definitely reeks of Stacy-behavior, which I thought Lexi was above.
I find her on the couch watching the television when I come in, but she immediately turns it off and stands to walk toward me. She definitely looks sorry, which, I have to admit, is a cute look on her. Some of my irritation starts to seep away.
She’s not nuts. She’s not acting defensive or playing dumb.
This was a misunderstanding. One we can definitely work out with a talk and some sexy punishment.
My dick stirs in my pants at the prospect.
“You’re in trouble with me, Lexi,” I warn.
Lexi
Crap. I should not have pissed off the mob boss. Made man. Whatever he is. I don’t want this arrangement to end. I mean, I really don’t want it to end. Not just from a financial standpoint–and my money situation is still dire. But I also hate the idea that I’ve irritated Bobby. Because I really like him.
“I know.” I try to appear calm. “I’m sorry, Bobby.”
I’ve been pacing the apartment, attempting to not freak out.
“I checked my text messages after we hung up, and I found your text from a few days ago. It didn’t show up as a new message for some reason, so I hadn’t noticed it. I’m really sorry.”
Regardless of having his new number or not, I shouldn’t have called him at home. Now he’s mad, and I’m not even sure what that means with a guy like him. Will he break up with me? Kick me out of the apartment? Punish me? He threatened punishment if I broke his rules, will that be the worst of it? Or was that just kinky talk?
I fight tears now as I realize I’m in way over my head. Why I thought getting mixed up with a mobster was a good idea is beyond me.
The grim look on Bobby’s face when he came in has already softened. He takes in my tears and sighs. “Come here, doll.” He holds his arms out.
Holy yes. I suck in a breath and close the distance between us. He folds me into his arms in an embrace. I melt into him, allowing his strength to envelope me.
“I’m sorry,” I say into his suit jacket.
“It’ll be okay.” He kisses the top of my head. He holds me for a moment, then says, “Look at me, baby.” When I lift my face, he lowers his head to catch and hold my gaze. “We have rules. The rules are for your safety and mine.”
I nod.
“What were you thinking calling my house?”
I swallow, not sure how to answer.
His eyes narrow. “And where did you get my home number, anyway?”
I start to look away, and he catches my chin, gently holding my face in place, my gaze trapped in his. He raises his brows, waiting.
The knot in my belly tightens.
“Lex?”
“I saw your ex-girlfriend at Swank. Stacy? She asked me for your new number.”
“Cristo.” His jaw clenches. “I see. Did you give it to her?”
“Well, no! I didn’t have it. Well, at least I didn’t realize I had it. I’m sorry, I never saw your text.”
He cocks his head. “So you would have given it to her if you had it?”
Crap. I flush. Somehow I have a feeling he would know if I lied. Instead, I lift my chin. “I wouldn’t have needed to because...” I trail off, realizing my argument lacks logic.