Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Quickly gathering my things, I then head out to the car. Matty drives me home so I can get changed. I’m already late, but that was not my intention. I put on a short skirt and a button-up shirt. My hair is already styled, so I keep it the way it is and then proceed to slip on my red-bottomed heels before I step out the door.
When I arrive at the restaurant, I wonder if I should ask Arlo if we’re something more than fuck buddies. What are we doing if it’s not just having sex? I haven’t shared with him that no-strings sex isn’t what I’m looking for. Yet, I keep giving in.
When I push open the door, the restaurant is quieter than usual. I hear soft music but don’t see many people.
“Mr. Graves said to escort you to the back,” the hostess says when I approach. She starts walking, expecting me to follow. I check my watch and note that it’s past dinner time, and when I raise my head, I see Arlo and his friends sitting in booths at the back with a few other women. He spots me right away, his gaze tracking me as I make my way toward him. Arlo doesn’t bother standing when I stop at his table; instead, he looks around before pinning his gaze back on me. He smirks as he pats his thigh, indicating for me to sit on it. I raise a brow at him as if to say, “Really?” and he raises his right back before he pulls me down onto his lap.
“Your friends,” I fret, noticing others watching.
“They can look,” he says, caressing my cheek with his knuckles. “Did you miss me this morning?”
“Thank you for the food.”
“Pleasure to meet you under different circumstances, Cora.”
I turn and see the detective, Boston, standing there. He offers me his hand, and I lift mine to shake it. But as I do, Arlo adjusts me so I can no longer reach.
“Probably best you don’t touch what’s mine,” he says, a warning note in his tone as he stares at his friend.
“Yours?” I scoff.
Arlo doesn’t respond, just continues his stare down.
“Of course. Nice to see you again, Cora,” Boston says.
I glance around again, only to find the others watching us.
“Who are these people?” I whisper.
“Most work for me. Or they’re my competition. Every now and then, we have a night when we meet up.”
“So, they’re all therapists?” I question as his hand rubs up and down my back.
He leans in and whispers, “No, most of them are killers.”
I freeze at his words, and I feel his grin as he kisses my shoulder through my shirt.
THIRTY-FOUR
ARLO
Confidential — Personal Use Only
OBSERVATIONS:
Noticed a strong emotional reaction…
Another man’s hand on her quite upsets me.
One of my greatest strengths is being able to keep secrets. I did it for many years for my foster mother. I’ve done it for Soren. And I’ve done it for the sake of the Society. I don’t let things slip, and I usually abide by the rules. Reon once told me rules are meant to be broken, but I’d laughed in his face in disagreement. If a man can’t follow the rules, he isn’t worthy of keeping a secret.
So why does this woman on my fucking lap make me want to throw every single rule I’ve ever followed out the fucking window? It’s not good, and it sure as shit isn’t healthy. She could tear everything I’ve ever worked for to the ground, and I would still crawl back to her. I understand what this emotion is—it’s lust. And I’m fucking balls deep in it. Falling and unable to get up. But the thing with lust is that it eventually ends.
I just have to remember to be strong.
But she makes me weak.
A weak man who wants to get on his hands and knees and worship her, with or without the pain. I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give.
A few people glance our way. I didn’t mention she was coming because if she didn’t show up, there would have been questions, and I didn’t want to fucking answer them. I’m very glad she did show up though. Having her sleep in my arms last night made me realize how much she’s getting to me, and I’m letting it happen.
I’ve always enjoyed the pleasure of strangling a woman, so I’m utterly confused. Why is it so different with her? It has to be a serious case of lust.
When you lust for another person, you have a strong desire for a physical connection with them. You’re attracted to the way they look and constantly thinking about touching them. But the thing with lust is that there is no long-term connection. It’s just in the moment.
So that’s what we have.
Lust.
And I don’t want anyone else touching what’s mine.