Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Lifting the blanket over my mouth, I said, “Don’t get close. I have awful morning breath.”
He grinned. “Nothing about you is awful.”
I rolled my eyes, but didn’t lower the blanket.
“I have to get to the office.”
I looked to the other side of the bed—empty—and then back at Donovan. “Where’s Nix?” I breathed in the scent of coffee and Donovan’s spicy aftershave. Definitely something I could get used to.
“He left early. You were out cold.”
“You guys wore me out.”
They had. I was relaxed in a way only several orgasms could achieve. I was also a little sore. To say they were vigorous and thorough lovers was an understatement. And two men? My body totally got worked. I was also exhausted. The nightmare hadn’t helped at all.
He grinned, stepped back. “If I don’t get out of here, I’ll be getting back in bed with you.”
Yes, please.
“I’ve got to go to my apartment, shower and get ready for work.”
It was then I noticed he was in the clothes from the night before. I’d assumed—until last night—that Donovan and Nix lived together.
“Your car’s in the driveway. We went and picked it up from your office.”
“You went and got it for me?”
He shrugged. “Figured you’d need it.”
Everything came back in a rush and my smile slipped. The good feelings slid away. How could I have forgotten?
Erin was dead.
I pushed myself up in bed, leaned against the pillows and the headboard, tugged the sheet up so I was well-covered. Murdered friends and sexy times didn’t go together.
My eyes felt gritty with lack of sleep and I rubbed them. I needed coffee and soon. “I’ll call Nix and find out when he wants me to give my statement.”
“He told me to tell you nine.”
I glanced at the bedside clock. Seven forty-five. “Sure.”
“Be careful.”
I remembered Erin’s bloody body. “Should I be worried?”
He sighed. “The murderer’s out there.”
I didn’t need that reminder.
“You have no idea how fiercely protective I am of you, but this situation is a mess. We finally get you… here”—he tugged gently at the sheet—“and Nix is off trying to get your name off the suspect list.”
“He’s worried about his job? How being with me will affect him?”
“He’s worried about you.”
“And you?” I asked.
He smiled. “Kitty Kat.” He didn’t say more on the subject. “We can’t call you since your phone records are being checked. While I’m not ashamed of us, I don’t need to screw up the investigation. I’ll get in touch with you later.”
With a wink, he was gone.
Screw up the investigation.
I had nothing to do with Erin’s murder, but I was tangled in it. Being with Nix and Donovan could screw not just with the investigation, but with their jobs. Fucking a suspect probably wasn’t a good idea. If I were cleared, then was us being together okay? I didn’t know the nuances of the law, but I knew they were the ones putting their careers on the line. Not me. I had no career.
I climbed from the bed, my earlier happiness about being in Nix’s bed pretty much gone. Alone, reality returned.
I found my overnight bag on the vanity in the bathroom. I showered, using the soap and shampoo that smelled like Nix, and pulled myself together. Nix had packed me jeans and two shirts, sandals, toothbrush and hairbrush. He’d included no makeup or hair products, so while clothed, I’d certainly be casual.
As for underwear, he’d found the sexiest and skimpiest silk panties and matching bra. Knowing how Nix felt about me, about what he liked to do to me, it only made my pussy clench in eagerness for him.
After making Nix’s bed, I sat at his kitchen table as I worked on my first cup of coffee—someone had left a full pot for me—and called Eddie Nickel. He answered on the second ring. “Hi, Mr. Nickel, this is Kit Lancaster.” I tried to sound bright and cheerful.
“Kit! You caught me on a break between shoots.”
He sounded very upbeat for first thing in the morning. I was finishing my first hit of caffeine, but it sounded like he was on his fifth.
“Eddie, remember? No one calls me Mr. Nickel.”
He was casual. Far too casual for my liking, but I had a feeling that was the way of Hollywood stars. Everyone knew him, therefore everyone was a friend. In his forties, he hadn’t quite hit over-the-hill status in films. For men, they didn’t age, they matured. He was handsome, incredibly so. He knew it. Women flocked to him which gave him the validation he clearly craved. I’d never fawned over him. He wasn’t my type. Erin was—had been—friends with his daughter, Poppy. We’d all gone to school together.
I liked Poppy. As for Shane, he was a year ahead in school, but our paths didn’t cross that much. They were both really nice and well-adjusted considering their father’s ego and his being off shooting a movie more than he’d been at home, but I learned early enough to be jaded about rich parents. Money could buy pretty much anything, except love. Parents who actually gave a shit.