Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He groans against my pussy. His eager tongue laps at my clit. I dig my fingers into the bedding, writhing. I gasp when he latches on, his lips sealed around that sensitive little nub. With every hard suck, it ramps up the pleasure and tension inside my body.
My hips move slightly with the thrust of his finger. Heat spreads through my body but centers where his mouth meets my skin. When Carson hooks his finger inside of me, I come hard on his tongue, crying out his name. Shudders of sweet pleasure roll through me.
“Best dessert I’ve ever had. Addicting. I need another taste.” Carson’s words bring me back down from my high. My body, which was exhausted moments ago, suddenly perks up.
I mean, who am I to deny anyone extra dessert?
15
CARSON
May sleeps soundly, her cheek on my chest, her breath tickling against my skin. I can still taste her, hear the way she moaned my name. Fuck, I’ve never wanted anyone like this. It’s a special sort of insanity. Running my fingers through her hair, I wonder at the soft strands, at the way everything about her is inviting. As if someone took everything I’ve ever dreamed of and wrapped it all up in a single person.
Maybe I’m losing my mind. I can’t explain it. There’s just something about this woman that has burrowed under my skin. Deeper than that. Maybe all the way to the heart of me. She’s like … my catnip. I groan inwardly at the punny thought.
Easing from beneath her, I tuck her in as she continues sleeping. I stand over her and stare for far longer than I should, then grab my phone and creep from the room. Outside, I find Mousey curled up in the center of the couch, her chin resting on her paws. Her eyes are only open to slits as she watches me.
I find myself wondering what she’s thinking, wondering what May would say. Funny, I’ve never concerned myself with pets or anything remotely sentimental. May is the opposite. She loves with her whole heart, works to keep a shelter afloat even though she can’t bear to visit it. I hate that she feels guilty about it. She shouldn’t.
The city is almost quiet from my penthouse, but everything is still bright despite the late hour. The skyscrapers are lit in holiday colors. Funny, I’ve never thought much about the holidays, about spending time with loved ones, not that I have any. It’s just always been work for me. Doing the job, rescuing the hostages, tracking down the bad guys. But here with May, my mind is adrift in an ocean of thoughts about the two of us. What a life with her might be like. Is this what people mean when they talk about getting hit with a lightning bolt when they meet the right person?
A horn honks somewhere far below. Wind buffets against the glass windows, and I glance down the hall, hoping the sound doesn’t wake my May. Nothing moves, and even Mousey has gone back to sleep, her breathing deep and even.
Easing into one of the side chairs, I pull out my phone and click over to Squirrel’s messages. Looks like he’s found more information for us.
Squirrel: Narrowed down possible matches on the tag number. Most likely stolen plates. Snatched off a Mercedes parked in front of a pet store about a mile from LaGuardia.
Me: Video?
Squirrel: Old school CC system. No access online. I’m checking local businesses now. Will let you know if I spot something.
I sit back and sigh. Something about all of this strikes me as strange–and not just because I have a cat psychic in my bed. I’ve also accepted that the case isn’t about a person. But what keeps feeling all wrong about it is the lengths the thief has gone to just to get their target. To go to such effort and not even demand ransom? It doesn’t smell right, especially when it’s clear Mrs. Farrol is loaded and would spend any amount of money to get her cat back. So what’s the payday? Why take a cat and ask for nothing in return? What’s the end game?
“Hey?” May’s voice floats down the hall.
I jump up. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She has a blanket around her. “I woke up and you were gone.”
“Sorry.” I hurry to her and pull her into my arms. She’s warm and soft, her scent mixing with mine. “Just checking on the license plate.”
“Oh.” She nuzzles against my chest, her eyes closed.
“Come on.” I take her back to bed, sliding between the sheets with her.
When she presses her cheek to my chest, she lets out a little sigh. “Better.”
I feel better, too. Just being near her is oddly soothing.
“For a second, I thought you’d ditched me, but then I remembered I’m at your place.” Her voice is dreamy, already fading back to sleep.