Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
And afterwards he’d fucked her six ways from Sunday, cumming longer and harder than he had since they were teenagers. And by the end of that night she knew she had him, she had all of them; she had the best of both worlds.
Bobby with his long amazing cock was there to satisfy her pussy anytime she wanted, Gil was her security blanket of sorts, she can’t very well marry anyone else when she’s already married, and Don, well Don was the man who was going to finance her new lifestyle.
Now she spritzed herself with a little of the Chanel number five that Don had bought her when he went away on a business trip last week, blew her husband a kiss and walked out the door.
She was sure the neighbors were looking out at her from behind their curtains, but she didn’t care, she added a little more swagger to her walk and when she reached the car she turned and looked right at their window with a grin, before putting on her sun glasses and getting in to drive away.
CHAPTER 5
Detective Celia Sparks left the station house and headed for home. Ever since the murder case a few weeks ago life has been going nonstop and she was wishing for the days of old, when nothing more exciting than a brawl at the pub between one of the locals and a bewildered tourist needed her attention.
The case had garnered her more publicity than she was comfortable with, even a write-up in the local paper. People called out to her on the streets now more than ever and for the first time it was as if she’d finally been accepted into the fold. It had only taken three and a half years.
As much as she hated her new notoriety and the fact that a woman had been murdered while yet another had taken her own life, there was one good thing that came out of the whole horrible situation, and that something was Riley O’Rourke. The man she’d been crushing on since moving to the small town.
It started the night she went to his home to tell him that his wife, who she’d arrested or murdering her best friend, had taken her own life in the jail cell while in custody.
That night when she’d tried to leave he’d grabbed her arm and pulled her back inside his home. She didn’t know what to expect in the face of his anger, especially after he’d told her point blank that he knew she was interested in him.
She’d wanted to get away if only to hide her embarrassment at being found out. She’d thought all along that she was very good at hiding her true feelings from him, she didn’t even know he knew she existed, but apparently she wasn’t as good at hiding what she felt as she thought she was.
That night she’d sat in his kitchen while he moved around the room like a caged lion. He didn’t even say two words to her for the first five minutes, but when she tried to make her excuses and leave again he’d given her this look that told her to stay put.
“You made this mess of my life now you can bloody well sit there and listen to what I have to say.” She’d taken umbrage at that and told him so, finally finding her voice again once she ascertained that he wasn’t going to get violent.
“I don’t see how you can come to that conclusion, it’s not like I told your wife to kill her friend, and I certainly didn’t tell her to run headfirst into a wall.” She’d been too angry to watch her words. Shit! The look on his face was one she’d never forget.
“Is that how she did it?” He seemed more sober than a few seconds ago. Like just hearing it had shocked him awake.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” Things got calm after that and by the time she left she wasn’t feeling as threatened.
She thought it would end there, but she saw him again at the funeral for Sonya Davis and then again when he buried his wife. She still doesn’t know how things went from that to what they are now; how they became friends.
How they went from barely knowing each other to lengthy phone calls every night while she was tucked up in bed. They never crossed the line, he’d just buried his wife a few weeks ago after all, but there was no mistaking the growing tension between them.
Now every evening when the work day was over she couldn’t wait to rush home and get everything else out of the way so she could be free when he called her at the same time every night. Now as she drove home, instead of dreading going home to the empty house, she was looking forward to it.