Target on Our Backs Read Online J.M. Darhower (Monster in His Eyes #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Drama, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Monster in His Eyes Series by J.M. Darhower
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 111768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
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My natural instinct is to deny her, not because I think it might be tampered with, but because it frankly sounds disgusting. But I'm turning over a new leaf here, and I've already ended up at a fast food restaurant with my wife in her pajamas.

Why not humor her?

I take a small bite, chewing slowly, as she pops the rest of it in her mouth.

It's not terrible.

It's just... chocolate.

And cold.

A chocolate, cold potato.

Okay.

I don't like it.

She laughs at my expression.

"You're such a snob," she says. "It's good!"

"Whatever you say."

I eat half of my sandwich before throwing the rest out. It's not that great, either. I could go for a steak, or maybe some lobster, or even some real chicken, but Karissa seems quite content with what she's eating.

It makes me think of what Melody said in the car.

When you've got nothing, I suppose you appreciate the little things so much more.

We head back to the car after she's finished, and once we're inside, she reaches over and grabs my hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I say, "but next time, I pick."

Security at the dorms was always worthless.

I can't count how many times Naz slipped in and out of the place undetected when I lived there. So I'm not at all surprised that I'm able to just walk right inside, bypassing check-in to head upstairs.

It's late morning and people are steadily coming and going. I've called Melody a few times only to get her voicemail. The damn thing doesn't even ring. She was supposed to meet me for coffee this morning, but she never showed up at the café.

Late night, I'm guessing, considering she was out on her date.

I pause in front of room 1313, quietly listening, but there are no sounds inside that I can hear. Tapping on the door, I hear some shuffling before it's opened, someone appearing in front of me. Red hair, dozens of freckles, and the angriest scowl I've ever seen greet me. The second she lays eyes on me, she literally grimaces, letting out a sound of disgust like she's actually repulsed by me.

What the fuck?

"Uh, hey... Kimberly." I think that's her name. "Is Melody here?"

"No."

No.

That's it.

No greeting.

No explanation.

Before I can say anything else, the door slams right in my face. I stare at it for a moment before shaking my head, turning to leave.

"Karissa?"

I glance up at the sound of the voice, locking eyes with Melody as she steps onto the floor from the elevator. Her hair is a rat's nest on top of her head. Old makeup streaks her face. She's still rocking my black dress.

Good ol' walk of shame.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, smiling sheepishly as she tugs on the dress, knowing damn well I notice she hasn't changed.

"I came to check on you," I say. "You stood me up this morning."

"Oh, shit!" Her eyes widen. "Coffee! I'm so sorry! I forgot!"

"No big deal." I motion toward her. "I can tell you were, uh... otherwise occupied."

Blushing… yet again… she grabs my arm and drags me back to the room, not offering a word in the way of explanation. She unlocks the door and waltzes in, yanking me inside behind her before shutting the door again. Kimberly is sitting at her desk and doesn't bother turning around as we enter, but I can see her back straighten like she's preparing for an attack or something. I plop down on Melody's messy bed, relaxing back on a pile of clothes, as Melody whips the dress off over her head, tossing it at me.

"I'm seriously so sorry," she says, rooting through her dresser drawers. "I would've never stood you up like that. It completely slipped my mind."

"It's fine," I assure her. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm more than all right," she says, snatching up a shirt and a pair of pants before turning to me. "I'm perfect. He's just... wow. He's perfect. He took me to dinner last night at Paragone... you know, that fancy ass place over near Central Park? Can you believe it? I've always wanted to eat there!"

Can I believe it?

I don't know.

I ate there once before.

Naz took me on our first date, I guess you could call it. He dropped thousands on tiny plates of food and crazy overpriced champagne. He had to intimidate the staff to get a table because they book up weeks in advance.

"Wow," I say. "How'd he get a reservation?"

"Who knows," she says, "but we showed up and there was one in his name! We ate and talked and laughed... and then we went back to his place and we slept."

"You... slept."

"Yes." She turns to look at me. "We both fell asleep. It was the first time in my life I just slept with a guy all night long, you know? No hanky-panky."

I seriously don't know what to say.

Boy crazy Melody Carmichael is standing in front of me, half naked, telling me she kept her clothes on last night?

"So you guys didn't, you know... do it?"

"Oh, pfft, of course. Fucked his brains out first thing this morning."

She laughs.

I just shake my head.

Kimberly, across the room, slams a book closed and runs her hands down her face.

Melody shoots her roommate a look, rolling her eyes, before focusing on me again. "So that was my night. I had to make the trek back here from Brooklyn looking just like this."

"Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, like, Bensonhurst or something. Took forever. Anyway, I'm going to take a quick shower. Don't go anywhere, okay?"

She doesn't give me time to respond before jetting off to the bathroom, leaving me here. I sit in silence, absently smoothing and folding the dress to occupy my time, as Kimberly shifts things around on her desk, arranging her books. She pulls one out of her bag, and I catch sight of the black and white cover. History: A Definitive Guide.

I have that book, too.

"Are you taking Rowan's class?"

The question is out of my mouth before I can even talk myself out of asking it. Kimberly continues what she's doing as she answers flippantly, "You sit three rows behind me."


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