Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“Turn around, Mayve,” I request.
She does so without argument, and her eyes—those fucking eyes that suck me right the fuck in—lift to meet mine.
If I could have a display of anything in my house right now, it would be of her eyes. They stare at you and can hardly see. Yet you see so much.
“Marco, this is…” Mayve waves her hand at me. She tries to straighten her stance but fails.
“Her husband,” I finish for her.
She nods her head but doesn’t say more. Then she crosses her legs nervously, and Marco’s eyes move subtly from me to her.
“She is a smart cookie, this one. Congrats, Kenzo, I wasn’t aware you got married. We were just off to celebrate our partnership.” Marco goes to touch her shoulder again but thinks better of it and pulls his hand back. “Care to join us?”
“He can’t,” Mayve blurts.
“I can.” I smile.
She huffs and moves to the side of the building. It’s dark back there, and I keep watch as she goes.
“Don’t touch her again,” I warn Marco, to which he nods his head in acknowledgment.
I leave Marco there and head in the direction Mayve went. When I find her, she has her dress hiked up around her waist, squatting next to some trash cans.
I lean against the wall and watch her.
“Do you have to stare?” she asks. The sound of her pissing stops then starts again.
“You can’t see me.”
“I don’t have to see you to know you’re there,” she whispers.
When she’s done relieving herself, she looks around, presumable for something to wipe with.
I reach in my pocket for a tissue—they come in handy to wipe up small amounts of blood—and move closer to offer it to her. “Wipe yourself.”
She takes the tissue, uses it, and throws it on the ground, then she stands, pulling her dress back down at the same time. It’s then I notice she’s wearing heels. Hmm… Didn’t think I would see her in those, either. “This place has cameras…” I tell her, leaning in, “outside.” I motion to the camera behind her, which would have caught everything.
I’ll take care of it before anyone else witnesses her little indiscretion.
But I don’t need to tell her that.
“I have to go. I have work to do,” Mayve says.
“Smells like you’ve been drinking,” I point out. I back her up until she’s against the wall, and she sucks in a breath. “I like the heels.”
“I don’t like you,” she manages to say. “You said we can divorce in a month…” she takes a deep breath, “it’s coming up to that.”
“Did I?” I toy with her.
“You did. And you can have this ring back.”
“You don’t like the ring?” I ask, grabbing her hand and lifting the ring finger to look at the gorgeous black gem.
“I do, but it’s yours.” She pulls her hand back and drops it to her side.
“It’s yours, regardless.” I turn and walk back to where Marco waits. When I reach him, he has a surprised smile on his lips.
“All good?” he asks as she comes up behind me.
I don’t miss how she tries to put distance between us.
“I might head home if that’s okay with you, Marco? Little tired now. But we can meet to discuss everything at another time that suits you.”
“You are a godsend, Miss Mayve Hitchcock,” he says, awe clear in his voice.
She blushes, and I can’t help but correct him.
“It’s Mrs.” I pause. “Hunter,” I growl.
“Yes, of course, you’re married. How could I forget?” He winks and makes his way to his car, a few of his men going with him while the rest stay behind.
I turn to face Mayve to see her arms crossed over her chest.
“Why did you do that?” she asks as the cars drive off.
“Do what?”
“I didn’t say I was changing my name.”
“It’s done.” I smile. “You’re married to me. You take my name.”
“We’re divorcing. There is literally no reason to tell people we’re married, let alone that I took your name.” I can hear the anger in her tone. “Is this what you do? You come here, and what? Pay for sex?” she asks, throwing her hands around at the club behind us.
“I pay to cut, not for sex,” I correct her.
She gives me an eye roll. “You’re disgusting.”
“Would you like me to show you?” I ask. Reaching for her hand, I pull it to me and place it where the knife is in my pocket. “I could cut you, just a little…” She snatches her hand back, and I can’t help but laugh. “You are too innocent for me anyway, good girl.” I head for my motorcycle and call over my shoulder, “Hike that skirt up and get the fuck on the back of my bike. I’m taking you home.”
Fifteen
Mayve
He hands me a helmet as I climb on the back of his bike, then he pulls me closer to him and wraps both my arms around his middle.