Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“When I get this fucking Internet working and find out where we have to go to sell the…” He widens his eyes.
“Oh, right,” I whisper. Of course.
His hand slides up my leg again as I watch him over his shoulder and I glance over to see a middle aged woman sitting in the row of seats watching us. What’s she looking at?
His hand slides up my leg again and I drop my head to hide my smirk.
Oh… that.
Look at me. I’ve gotten so used to his hands on me all the time that I don’t even notice he does it anymore. What must we look like? Me in a short, slutty dress with a blonde wig, and him being his edible self, running his hands up and down my leg in public while he concentrates.
“Rebecca Williams,” the girl at the desk calls out. I walk over to where she is sitting.
“Yes, I would like to rent a car, please.” I slide over my passport.
“Drivers license.”
I slide Stace’s international license over the counter and her eyes lift to find him in the room. She goes back to her computer and types for a moment. “What kind of car would you like?”
“Um.” I glance at Stace. “I need something with really, really dark, tinted windows.” I pause for a moment. “Like black windows. Oh and air conditioning.”
She raises her brow. “Sneaking around are we?”
My eyes widen and I glance back at Stace. Oh shit, what can I say? “Yes, on my husband… with my lover.” I tilt my chin towards Stace and her eyes rise to him again. He sits with his legs spread and his muscles on show, the epitome of an alpha.
She smirks and widens her eyes. “Boy, I don’t blame you,” she whispers.
I smile. “I know,” I whisper back.
She types into her computer. “Have fun while you can, I say.”
“I am.” I smirk. If only she knew how much.
She reads her computer screen. “Okay, so we have a UV, a sedan…”
“Hmm.” I pause for a moment. “Anything else?”
She hits a few more buttons and raises her eyebrows. “We have a black Ferrari.”
I smirk. “A Ferrari?”
She looks up at me and raises her eyebrow. “If you’re going down, you probably should do it in style, right?”
I bite my bottom lip to hide my stupid smile and she smiles back. We are thinking exactly the same thing. “Exactly,” I whisper as I glance back at Stace. “How much is that for two weeks?”
She widens her eyes and she types into her computer and waits for the reply. “Twenty thousand dollars.”
I think for a moment. If I’m going down I should do it in style. This is crazy, but fucking hell, so is my life.
“I’ll take it.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later Stace is sitting in the parking lot waiting for me to pick him up as he works on our computer, and I am out the back getting instructions from the maintenance guys for our Ferrari. I am like a little kid at Christmas and my heart is racing. After many instructions, I finally get the keys. I climb into the lowered vehicle and drive around to the front to see Stace sitting on an outdoor chair. I pull up slowly and rev the engine. When he looks up, his eyes widen.
I wind down the window. “Going my way?” I smile with an over exaggerated wink.
He stands and puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head.
I laugh because I knew that would be his reaction.
He walks around to the driver’s side and bends down. “This is the inconspicuous car you rented?”
I rev the engine again. “Yep.”
“You’re fucking crazy. You do know that, don’t you?”
I rev the engine again. “Yep.”
He smirks as he looks over the car.
“If we’re going down, we’re going down in style.” I smile cheekily.
He bends to the window. “Do I have to fucking punish you every hour?”
“Yep.” I beep the horn to annoy him more. He slowly walks around the car and opens the driver’s side door.
“I’m driving,” he snaps as he unzips his jeans. “While you go down in style.”
17
“I would like to access my safety deposit box, please?” I tell the cranky receptionist through the glass security screen. My nerves are high and I’m panicking that she is going to call the police or something. It doesn’t seem real that I have gotten away with it so far.
Her beady eyes flicker up to Stace and she eyes him suspiciously.
He raises a brow in a silent dare and I subtly stand on his foot. What is the problem between these two? She seems to hate him and he apparently hates her more from the looks they’re exchanging.
“Identification, please,” she demands flatly.
I slide my license over the counter along with my two bank cards. She studies them for a moment. “I need to photocopy these and the one out here is broken. I will be back in a minute. I just need to go into the other office.”