Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“What the…?” He swallows his cuss word, locks his eyes with mine, then murmurs, “Untie me.”
He’s angry, but there is a smidge of playfulness gleaming in his eyes that harnesses my worry. He’s often joked that we should flip up the dominance in the bedroom. He just never thought it would be a possibility because I’m far too submissive for that.
“I will…” I mutter, stepping back. “When I’ve returned from the boutique.”
“Polly…” I snatch up his car key from the drawer, then head for the door like there isn’t an ounce of anger in his tone.
“Polina…” he tries again, dropping the nickname.
When his angry snarl doesn’t have my stance budging, he says, “What if I need to take a piss? Do you want to clean up that mess?” As my nose screws up, he adds, “Exactly, so untie me.”
He almost has me backing away from the ledge. Then I spot his cell phone.
“I’m going to tie your ass to my bed for a week!” Yev shouts through his rapidly closing bedroom door when I toss him his cell phone before hotfooting it outside.
His threat has excitement thrumming through my veins more than worry as I take the quickest route to my boutique. I travel well over the speed limit, the approaching storm more concerning than a ticket.
Typhoons cause blackouts.
Blackouts bring on panic attacks I don’t know how to control.
I text the driver as I pull Yev’s rust box into the alley that sides my boutique, noticing that my messages to Nat have gone unread.
Me:
Are you running late again?
Everything okay?
Check in with me when you can.
As I breathe out my unease, I scan my boutique.
The dispatch clerk’s observation was right. The building is completely blacked out.
Me:
I’m here.
I startle when a man knocks on the driver’s side window thirty seconds later. “Sorry.” His smile is shy but gleaming. “I’m in a bit of a hurry.” As he peers at the clouds rolling over the horizon, he pulls at the collar of his shirt.
“Not a fan of storms?” I ask as I slip out of the driver’s seat and pad toward the back entrance door.
His smile slips as he shadows my walk. “Not exactly.”
The brick wall next to me is the wall Yev took my virginity at. It settles my nerves enough for me to slot the key into the lock and pull the door open after only one attempt.
“Thought you guys are usually open on Sundays?” When I peer at the driver in shock, he scrubs at the back of his neck while muttering, “I bought my girl a little number here last Valentine’s Day. She became my wife only a month later.”
His cheeky comment does wonders for my nerves. With only the slightest quiver, I step into the back foyer to test the light switch.
“Could be a blown fuse,” the driver mutters before he grabs a flashlight out of his truck, then wordlessly advises me to lead the way. “Maybe that’s why Nat’s not in?” Another confused glare equals another quick confession. “She helped me pick out my purchase. Said it would move my girl up to wifey status within a month.” His smile is brighter than his flashlight. “Turns out she was right.”
As I use my phone to back up the dull illumination of his flashlight, and ignoring Yev’s multiple messages and one from Kliment asking if Yev is dressed this time around before he saves him, I ask, “Who placed the order?”
“I’m not sure,” the driver replies. “I have the paperwork in my truck if you want me to check.”
“No,” I shout a little too loudly, not wanting to be left alone in the dark. “That’s okay. I’m sure Nat took record of it.”
I stop feeling the urge to bend in two when we reach the storage room, and the driver rolls up the roller door at the back. It streams light into the tiny room.
“I’d say that’s what we’re after,” he summarizes, nudging his head to a stack of boxes that weren’t there last week.
It has to be an order of at least five figures.
No wonder the courier company was so eager.
“We usually supply garment bags with orders this big. Let me grab you some.”
As I move deeper into the storage room, my heart beats in my throat. There is a packet of cigarettes on the third shelf. They’re open and missing several cigarettes.
“Don’t be too hard on her. Bad habits are hard to give up,” the driver says, scaring the living daylights out of me. “Sorry.” He hooks his thumb to the garment bags.
“Take two stacks.” It may be the only way I’ll be able to look you in the eye again.
I’m acting like a chicken, and it is even more frustrating since I have no reason to be scared. My father is home. My sex life is crazy, and I’m an aunt to a precious little girl my brother will ensure never faces any of the issues I did in my childhood.