Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I stroked the back of Cass’s neck as we lay there. “You do realize something, right?” I asked as I pressed a kiss to his earlobe.
His response was completely unintelligible.
“First off, I see a lot of fights in our future,” I began.
“Me too,” Cass responded, his lips caressing the spot between my neck and collarbone.
“Secondly, I won this one,” I reminded him.
Cass shifted enough that he could look at me. “Is that so?” he asked.
I was about to tell him even if I ever did lose a fight, I’d always come out a winner if today’s encounter was the end result, but I never got the chance to speak the words because Cass pressed the top of his finger against my very sensitive and well-used hole. The jolt that went through me took away my ability to speak. He left his finger where it was and rubbed me every few seconds.
“We may need to revisit that thought a little later, right, sweetheart?” Cass asked with a languid grin before sealing his mouth over mine to stifle the little whimpers I couldn’t contain every time his rough fingertip brushed my sensitive skin.
“Asshole,” I somehow managed to quip just so I could have the last word, but even that was stolen from me because I lost the ability to speak as Cass teased my body with his sinful tongue and talented fingers. By the time he managed to pull another earth-shattering orgasm from my body, I lost the ability to do anything at all.
Something I was very much okay with.
I couldn’t deny that I was nervous as Cass pulled up to the huge iron gate. I’d never seen his family’s compound, but based on the entrance alone, I couldn’t help but think about my own little two-story Cape Cod style house that was considered one of the nicer homes in my neighborhood. As a kid, I hadn’t really understood the line that existed between families like mine and his. Words like indigent, blue collar, working class, millionaires, and billionaires hadn’t been part of my world until I’d gotten into my teens. Even when Cass had shown up in the park with his fancy sports car, I hadn’t realized that he’d lived in a world that was miles apart from my own.
Now, as I studied the perfectly cut grass and small trees that lined as much of the driveway as I could see through the massive gate, I heard Cass sigh in frustration after talking to the guard who was in charge of monitoring it.
“Everything okay?” I asked Cass as I leaned over him just a bit and looked at the guard. He had his back to us, and it looked like he was talking on a cordless telephone. No doubt he was checking with someone at the house whether he should let us in or not. I’d purposefully worn a baseball cap and kept my head turned away from the guard so he wouldn’t recognize me. Even if he did, it wouldn’t change our plan.
Me being seen in public with Cass had already been a big no-no, but to immerse myself directly into his family was beyond insane. After the fight and the mind-blowing make-up sex afterwards, Cass and I had managed to speak to one another more calmly about my idea and had agreed that me remaining hidden away wouldn’t accomplish anything.
We’d talked briefly about telling my brother about our plan—well, technically my plan—but had agreed that Sully’s not-so-delicate approach to dealing with any member of the Ashby family would have been equivalent to the proverbial bull in a china shop.
As far as Sully knew, Cass and I were still holed up someplace safe. While I understood their need to keep me safe, I’d finally gotten a taste of the life I could have, and no one was going to take it or Cass from me. As it stood now, all we had were theories, not facts. We couldn’t get facts if we didn’t start making the person or people hunting us nervous enough that they’d eventually slip up and make a mistake. A mistake we could hopefully use to our advantage.
While Cass seemed pretty certain his father had been responsible for what had happened, I wasn’t entirely convinced. I also wasn’t one hundred percent sure that Cass had been the true target of an unspeakable frame-up job. I hadn’t told him about the file I’d seen several months before I’d been shot because I couldn’t recall if that specific report really had been related to Cass’s father or one of the many other Ashby male family members. With my memory as bumpy as it was, I needed to see that file again before I gave him another reason to focus on his father as the only possible suspect, and getting that file was going to take skills neither Sully, Cass, or I had.