Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
The living area had a small black sectional facing the TV wall with Irwin’s terrarium set up below it.
I was nobody’s neat freak, but I know I hadn’t left a bunch of my drawers open and hadn’t turned up my couch cushions. And I definitely had strewn the contents of my linen cabinet all over.
“So, you’re a slob,” Voss concluded as he looked over my shoulder.
“I didn’t do this,” I said, heart sinking.
“Move,” Voss demanded, tone no-nonsense, as he brushed past me, already reaching for something. It took me an embarrassingly long moment to see what it was. A gun.
Of course it was a gun.
He was an arms dealer after all.
I didn’t feel any anxiety about it. I’d been around guns a lot in my life. I understood the worth of having one for personal protection. Especially if you were female. And seeing it in his seemingly capable hands, I felt a wave of relief as he systematically moved through my living room, then looked inside the linen closet before dipping into the bathroom then the bedroom.
“No one’s here,” he called, and I hopped my way to my bedroom to see that not only did my bed look like it’d been lain in—when I knew I’d made it—but my dresser drawers were half open. My panty drawer in particular was all the way open, just shy of falling to the ground, my collection of panties all but spilling out.
Seeing my gaze on that, Voss waved at it. “Do you keep anything important in there?” he asked, clearly operating under the assumption that this might be some sort of burglary.
“No,” I said. Unless he counted far too many panties and my vibrator important. I mean, personally, I considered both things vital. But no one else would. “And I had this bed made,” I told him, waving toward it.
“You think someone slept in your bed?” he asked, brows drawing low. Then, seeming to put shit together, his gaze slid in the direction of the open pantry drawer. “Oh,” he said, sighing heavily.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Does anything seem like it’s missing?”
“I mean, I don’t keep an inventory of all my panties,” I said as I hobbled over, then reached my hand in to rummage around.
“What is it?” Voss asked, seeming to read the surprise on my face as my hand kept digging around.
Oh, boy.
“My vibrator is missing,” I admitted, watching his face, always a little curious about a man’s response to that particular device.
“No shit?” he asked, brows pinching.
So… no reaction to that.
That was… interesting. Intriguing. It was always hot when a guy didn’t make a big deal out of that kind of thing.
“Yeah,” I said.
“You sure you didn’t leave it somewhere else?” he asked. “The nightstand? The bathroom sink?”
Okay.
Not only was he non-reactive about me having one, he was aware of the fact that it needed to be cleaned between uses.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, nodding.
“Been a while?” he asked, and were his lips twitching a bit as he said that?
Damn him.
It was kind of hot.
“I’ve been busy,” I insisted.
“Too busy to rub one out?” he asked, and this time the smirk actually won the fight, making his blue eyes warm ever so slightly.
“I’ve been working doubles.”
He let it drop at that.
“Anything else important or… personal missing?” he asked.
Using just one crutch for balance, I hopped around my place, looking in drawers and my closet, then the bathroom.
“What is it?” he asked when I walked out with my brows drawn together.
“My razor is missing,” I admitted.
“Panties, your vibrator, and your razor? That’s some crazy-ass stalker shit.”
“But I don’t have a stalker,” I insisted. “Or, at least, I didn’t,” I said, understanding that they could pop up out of nowhere sometimes. I mean one in six women were going to be stalked in their life. I’d gone a nice chunk of time without being a part of that statistic. It wouldn’t be absurd that I switched over to the less fortunate side of the stats.
“Guess you do now,” he said. “Anything important in the liv—“ he started, but I was already running, using my damn bad foot because I was too panicked to give a shit.
“Damnit damnit damnit!” I hissed, dropping onto my knees, and yanking the glass front door of the enclosure open.
“Maybe it’s in the tunnel thing,” Voss suggested, squatting down right behind my shoulder, watching me frantically rake my hands through the substrate filling the bottom of the enclosure.
I mean, it wasn’t the right time, but he could be there.
“What are you doing?”
“He could be brumating?”
“Say that again?” he asked as my hands did another pass, hopelessness growing.
“Brumating. It’s like… like hibernation, but for reptiles. Damnit. Damnit!” I yelled, pulling my dirty hands out. Empty.
“He took your lizard?” Voss asked as I felt completely ridiculous tears sting my eyes.
I mean, no, reptiles weren’t super snuggly pets. But they had personalities and you bonded with them while doing their daily care.