Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
On my days off, I’d usually be at the gun range practicing. It’s the only time all my busy thoughts are silent, and I have one thing to focus on. Just the target. I know I’d be too distracted for it today, and it’d only infuriate me more, most likely throwing off my aim. And I outright refuse to have anything less than perfect aim.
Eli has gotten under my skin. I don’t usually dance with my targets. Hell, I usually don’t even talk to my targets. And I certainly don’t let them put their hands beneath my skirt and ride their fingers to a very frustrating missed climax.
I only received one text from Eli after he sat outside my apartment for almost an hour last night. It not-so-cryptically and simply stated, “Delivery.” Two minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
It caught me by surprise this morning when he sent food to the apartment. Not only breakfast but a hot chocolate as well because he must know I think coffee tastes like the devil’s piss. I’m not sure what his definition of a love letter is. But sending a woman food is pretty fucking close. Not that I would accept it. So when Jenny received it at the door, I told her it was from me to her. A total fucking lie. Because of her shocked expression, I had to explain further that I felt guilty for borrowing her heels without asking. I didn’t feel guilty at all. And if anyone in this apartment was going to get food poisoning, it wasn’t going to be me.
Not that I wanted her to be murdered, and I was ninety percent sure Eli was above doing something so sly. Not because he had morals or a conscience, but I’m certain poisoning me wouldn’t give someone like Eli satisfaction. No, Eli is definitely the type to choke me to death with his bare hands. Or something else just as up close and personal.
Although the thought did cross my mind that if such an unfortunate thing were to happen, at least I could totally steal those heels back.
I stop reading the files to check my phone again. I would have thought by now he’d have contacted me about his admirable watch collection that is… well, not so impressive now. I pull up the surveillance cameras I placed in his mansion last night; there are three in total. One in the bedroom, another in the private bathroom, and the last in the walk-in closet. I rewind the footage, certain he went back to the mansion last night.
It’s a gamble, really, but I had to get under his skin as much as he has mine. While I was there, I also looked for information that my client might want to know about him, but the asshole is as clean as he is ruthless.
I grin like a Cheshire cat as I roll onto my stomach on my bed and kick my feet back and forth. I love watching him discover his missing watch collection. I look at the box in the corner of my room where I threw the thousands of dollars worth of watches like they were less than garbage. I still don’t know what I’ll do with them; that wasn’t the point.
Perhaps provoking the monster who’s promising to kill me isn’t the smartest thing to do, but since it’s part of the game I’ve been hired for, I remind myself it’s necessary, and I’m not doing it simply to piss Eli Monti off. I’m doing it because it’s a job.
My smile slips, and my heart falters as Eli steps into his bathroom and begins peeling off his shirt. My mouth goes dry as I scan over the intricate pattern of black and gray skulls and dragons twisting through one another across his back and down his arms. His chest and stomach are completely covered in ink, and I can’t help but appreciate the finery of it.
That’s when he looks directly at the camera, and I gulp. He saw this last night, so why hasn’t he mentioned it yet? Why has there been no consequences? And then he smirks at the camera as he slowly undoes his belt. I can’t look away as he pulls out his sizable cock.
I’ve seen it many times before, specifically when he’s fucked his lover, Michelle, whom he hasn’t touched since almost a month ago. I stare, mesmerized, as he fists himself and pumps, staring into the camera the whole time.
That son of a bitch is fucking with me, and yet I can’t look away, imagining what it might feel like to have him inside me. I fantasized about it nudging at my entrance last night when I sat on his lap. Heat spreads up my body as I recall his hand around my throat.