Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
On her.
Which would be new.
When I fuck a woman, I’ll maybe go back for seconds, but rarely thirds. Then I either dispose of them or leave them, depending on who they are, of course.
It’s not that I have a thing about fucking the same woman once or twice. No, it’s more about…
… her smell changes.
And I can’t fucking stand it.
I once killed a man who was a doctor. He told me I had hyperosmia. It has to do with smell. A hyperosmiac is someone who has an overwhelming or heightened sense of smell. At the time he told me I should seek help, but to me, smell is everything.
I’m sure most cases of hyperosmia aren’t like mine.
I can only fuck someone if she smells right.
It doesn’t matter to me about weight, color, or appearance, it’s all about how they smell, and how they continue to smell.
And I am not fucking around when I tell you, Chanel smells like the best thing on this fucking earth.
So I have to take my time.
See if her smell changes.
See how I feel about that.
Because the last thing she needs is me addicted to her.
As things I get addicted to end up dead.
8
Chanel
“It’s time to go,” I say to Brody. He’s been drinking, which he shouldn’t have been. But I highly doubt the police are going to burst into this bar.
Only the stupid think about coming here.
Like me.
“But Lucas said I can drink as much as I want. And they say he’s never this nice.” I look over my shoulder to where he stands at the bar with Joey, and both of their gazes are locked on me.
The door that Lucas came out of opens and a man dressed in a suit strides out. When I look back to the two men at the bar, they’re talking, and the man in the suit eyes me, his brows scrunching as he studies me.
“We need to leave. Now. I know who that is,” Merci says, leaning in next to me. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” I reply while shaking my head.
Lucas has his back to me now and is talking to the man in the suit. I eye them separately, both without a doubt good-looking men, and both with dark hair. Lucas is younger, that is obvious, but even for his age, he holds power that almost matches the man standing next to him. Which says a lot, since everyone in this place is now looking everywhere but at him.
“Chanel.” The man, Joey, who I spoke to earlier, calls my name. He waves me over, and I hesitate, thinking this is wrong. This could be so very wrong. Merci gives me a small push on my back, and I manage to place one foot in front of the other as I make way over to them. All three sets of eyes lock on me.
“Chanel, this is Keir. He wanted to meet you.”
Keir’s gaze meets mine before it flicks to Lucas. Lucas’ hands slide into his pockets, and Keir watches his reaction before he looks back at me.
“Lucas tells me you’re in the service industry.” His voice is so deep. “Have you thought about leaving?” It feels like the club has gone silent and it’s just us four, the only other sound being my heart beating in my ears.
“Yes,” I answer, unsure of why he’s asking me this but knowing I should answer.
“My wife is after a sitter and an assistant.”
“Boss,” Lucas says. When I glance at him I see his jaw is locked tight.
Keir ignores him, focusing solely on me. He nods his head behind me, and I turn to find my brother drunk on the stage.
“That your brother?” he asks, and I nod. “You raised him?” I nod again. “Give Joey your info, he’ll be in touch.” Keir turns and stalks off, and Joey hands me a business card. I write my full name on it with shaky hands and look up at him. He offers no smile, just gives me a small nod before he follows Keir out of the bar. It would be stupid to say no to a job working for Keir, but also, I’m sure any job is better than my job.
“What have you done?” Lucas seethes. His hand reaches out, and he grips my arm, pulling me toward the back door. He shuts it behind us, pushes my back against it, and cages me in. “Do you know what you’ve done?”
I want to tell him I have no idea, but instead, I stay quiet and simply stare him. His eyes, which are now dark, seem to penetrate me. His hands are on either side of me, and his lip is turned up in a sneer as he locks eyes with me.
I should be more afraid of him.
Terrified even.