Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“Hey, Ehren,” Stephen started when they were only ten feet from his door.
Ehren nearly groaned in frustration. This was a tone he knew too well.
“Maybe I should just get going. My self-control isn’t nearly as good as I thought and I—”
Ehren caught Stephen by his tie and pulled him forward. “Oh, no. Too late for that shit now. You’re coming inside my place,” he said with a saucy grin. “I appreciate you not wanting to take advantage of me, but did you consider whether I’m taking advantage of you?”
“Oh, yeah?” Stephen’s question was low and rough and did bad, bad things to Ehren’s dick.
“I’m a wicked man, Stephen Sands, and I plan to make you scream for me.”
This was not him. He didn’t recognize himself, this confidence, or even the words coming out of his mouth, but he loved it. The way Stephen reacted to him, even just looked at him, was utterly intoxicating. He wanted to always feel this brave and bold.
“Now. We need inside your place now,” Stephen growled, sending the most wonderful chills through him.
They hurried the last few feet to his door. He paused and dug into his pocket, eager fingers fumbling with the keys.
But everything came crashing down when he tried to put the key into the lock and the door swung open.
He’d locked it when he left.
He always locked it.
All his adrenaline and excitement crashed, his stomach plummeting forty stories as he gazed into his place to find it horribly ransacked. Someone had broken into his apartment.
A fractured sound broke from his throat when he could drag in a breath. “No.”
Stephen’s arms immediately wrapped around him and pulled him along the hall, away from the open doorway. “Get your cell phone. Call the police now.”
Ehren managed a nod and grabbed his phone from his pocket. It took him two tries to dial 9-1-1 with his shaking fingers, and then Stephen was releasing him. The insane man didn’t get more than a couple of steps toward the apartment when Ehren grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop.
“What are you doing?” he demanded in a harsh whisper.
“I want to make sure the place is empty,” Stephen replied.
Ehren wanted to shake him. How could he be so smart and so slow? “Exactly, the thief could be in there! Leave that to the police.”
“But—”
“No!” Ehren pushed the Call button and put the phone to his ear. As it rang, he backpedaled toward the elevators with Stephen in tow. He was not allowing this sweet guy to get hurt on his behalf.
The phone call was brief, and the police were dispatched. The high-rise was located downtown, so in less than ten minutes, the police were charging into his place to check it over. Thankfully, it was empty.
Then there were a lot of questions that he didn’t have fantastic answers to. He walked through his condo with the big windows that looked out across the city, the comfortable furniture, and bright landscape paintings of places he’d called home over the years.
But now it all felt tainted. Someone had been through there, ripped books off the shelves, rifled through his drawers and papers. His bed was torn apart, sheets and pillows tossed everywhere. Someone had even gone through the luggage he’d not unpacked yet.
The only good thing was that Stephen had stayed right by his side the entire time, holding his hand, pulling him into his arms when he’d become overwhelmed. He was a comforting force that helped Ehren keep it together. At least while the cops were there.
After less than two hours, the cops were walking back out his door, which still had the lock intact. Apparently the thief had taken the time to pick the lock rather than kick the door in.
“I don’t get it,” Ehren said for what felt like the third time as he walked through his too-quiet apartment. “What was the point?”
“What do you mean?” Stephen had released him but continued to trail behind him like a shadow.
“Nothing was taken. At least, nothing that I can see. All the electronics are here. I’ve got two laptops, and both are still here.” He marched into his office and waved at his desk. “Even my checkbook was sitting right there on top of my desk, and they didn’t take that.” He stormed out and into the bedroom. “But they take the time to go through my dirty laundry? My books?”
“Maybe they were searching for something else. Specific art or jewels. Maybe they heard a noise in the hall and were afraid it was you, so the thief left.”
Ehren nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Stephen’s arms closed around him, and Ehren relaxed as much as he could. He took a deep breath. The buzzing rage started to recede into weary sadness. How could someone invade his personal space like this? He was grateful it appeared like nothing was taken, but he couldn’t shake this feeling of being violated. Of being rendered vulnerable.