Total pages in book: 7
Estimated words: 5672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 28(@200wpm)___ 23(@250wpm)___ 19(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 5672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 28(@200wpm)___ 23(@250wpm)___ 19(@300wpm)
"Ooh, kinky. If you're gonna commit one crime you might as well commit the other. The one we both want you to commit," I say, moving closer to him. I stop mere inches from him. He sucks in a deep breath and exhales it slowly. His breath hits my neck, and I can’t help moaning.
"What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t make sounds like that. Fuck. Can't you see that I'm hanging on by a thread here?" he shouts.
"Yes. I can," I shout back at him. “Why do you think I'm trying to unravel that thread?" I'm going to lose my mind if he doesn't kiss me. I know he can't and won't, but that doesn't make me want him or need him any less.
"I have to go now, right the fuck now, before I do something I can't take back. Remember what I said, Gwen. Ninety-one days." He briefly touches my hand, and then he's gone. The tears that threatened to fall the whole time we were arguing finally break with a loud, wretched sob. Burying my head in my hands, I realize I'm full-on Jane Austen crying in a coat closet. How Georgian of me.
"Don't cry, tigress. I'm sorry it has to be this way. You'll be in my arms soon enough, I swear," Wes says, jarring me from thoughts of despair. I drop my hands and look up, meeting his concerned gaze.
"You're back," I say dumbly. Rocket scientist, I am not. Hell, I can't even walk and chew gum at the same time.
"Yeah. I forgot my coat," he says, chuckling. The deep rumble washes over me.
"I can see how that happened," I say, offering him a watery smile.
"Besides, I could hear you crying, and it kills me, so stop, okay?
"Okay," I say, sniffling.
"Goodnight, tigress."
"Goodnight, Wesley." He growls, making me grin, and then he's gone again. Why does his leaving make me so sad? Does love do this to a person? Can a person fall in love in one night? Is this just lust? I wipe my face and come away with mascara all over them. Of course, he just had to see me looking like a raccoon.
Okay. Ninety-one days. I can do this. I can wait ninety-one days for that man, but I can't help wondering what exactly is going to happen when the waiting is over.
CHAPTER TWO
Westmeath Richards
Leaving her was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. She's everything to me, and it happened in such a short amount of time that my head and heart are still spinning.
She's like fire exposed to oxygen. Hot and bright. I don't know why it happened, but it did happen. I can't wait to explore her. I can't explain the hold she has on me. When I first saw her sitting next to my sister last night at the rehearsal dinner, I knew she was mine. Knew it in my very soul. Kylie introduced us; naturally, our hands touched when we shook hands. That polite shake meant so much more than the usual nice to meet you bullshit. Bolt after bolt of electricity hit every nerve in my body, beginning where we were linked. She's gorgeous. Thick, curvy, short, wild curly brown hair, pale blue eyes, creamy porcelain skin. I've memorized every inch of her I could see.
My depraved imagination filled in what I couldn't. When I found out how old she was, I almost didn't care. Almost. The thing that held me back wasn't the law; though I've sworn to uphold it, it was her. She needs to be able to make the decision to be mine free and clear.
My ninety-one days of torture begin now; I do the only thing that I can, bury myself in work. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, there's no shortage of crime in Boston.
"Richards!" Captain Decker yells from his office.
"Sir?" I answer after getting up from my desk and walking over to his open doorway. He's so old school; he has an unlit cigar hanging from his mouth. I discreetly check my watch and know that he's about to go up to the roof for his two-thirty smoke. He's a dick either way but a little less, so he allows himself a day after that one cigar. He was supposed to quit thirty years ago now, but he never did.
"You caught a case," he says. Fuck! There are barely thirty minutes until shift change, so as usual, I caught a case. It couldn't have happened earlier when I was bored out of my mind doing paperwork.
"Lose the look Lieutenant Detective," he growls.
"Sorry, sir. The case?"
"Dead student from the music college. Body found in an off-campus apartment."
"Alright. I'll grab the rookie and head out."
"Very good. Keep me updated. Deceased is an out of towner at a special fall program. Only been here for three days. Parents are due in about three hours. Please have something for them. The beat cops already notified them, and the school made the positive ID. You have to find the scum that did this."