Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Morgan: I liked hanging out with you too. We should do it again soon…maybe grab food or something?
Trent: Sounds like you’re asking me out, Miss Morgan.
Morgan: What would you say if I said I am?
I pick up the binoculars again and look up at her. She’s now sitting with a straight posture as she holds her phone close to her face, nibbling on her bottom lip. It’s actually cute to see her anxiously awaiting my reply, bringing a grin to my face.
Trent: I’d never pass up the opportunity to buy a pretty girl dinner.
Though I can’t hear her, I watch her laugh and lightly shake her head. Something about watching her smile and laugh fills me with the urge to always keep her in that state. She’s so beautiful when she’s amused or happy that it almost makes me ask her out to dinner tonight. But I need to pace myself as well as remain focused. This woman is still a potential hit target, no matter how beautiful and fun she is.
Morgan: You’re cute :p anyway, I need to take a shower so I’ll talk to you a little later…you know, if you’re not too busy being mobbed by other girls on campus ;)
I chuckle before turning my attention back to my window, watching as she tosses her phone on the bed next to her before she gets up and disappears from view. When she doesn’t return for a few moments, I place the binoculars in the passenger seat before retrieving my phone once again. In order to do proper surveillance, I need to get the right equipment. Watching her is nice, but I need to hear her conversations. I need to know who she’s talking to and what they’re talking about. I have to find out her relationship with her father and whether he’s involved. I have to get to the bottom of this confusing hit to truly make sure we have the right target.
Pulling up the website I need, I order a few pieces of surveillance equipment to be prepared the next time I need to stake out in her vicinity. I lift my gaze back up to the window, my mouth going dry as Morgan begins to undress. It’s wrong to watch her as she pulls off her shirt and jeans, yet I can’t bring myself to avert my gaze when her bare breast comes into view. My lips tingle with the need to wrap around her pink nipples, my cock stirring in my jeans at the thought of tasting her warm skin. She moves around her bedroom in only a thong for a few moments before she’s no longer visible.
I blow out a long breath and close my eyes to gather myself. I have to keep reminding myself that this is business and that I’m not allowed to touch my target.
But something tells me that the lines of professionalism I’m trying hard to follow are bound to eventually be crossed.
4
MORGAN
Imake my way down the stairs as quietly as possible the following morning, hoping my father is tucked away in his office so he doesn't see me leaving. I stop at the bottom of the stairs and listen closely. My shoulders sag with slight relief when I'm met with silence and the faint scent of his usual French roast coffee. My body relaxes as I step off the last step and make a mad dash to the front door, only for his deep voice to stop me in my tracks.
"Morgan," he calls out. I don't even bother turning around. My hand tightens on the doorknob, every muscle in my body wanting to just rip the door open and run out of the house before he has the chance to say what I already know he's going to. But I'm not brave enough to do something like that. No matter how many times I think about running away from my father, I always remain where I am like the scared little girl I truly was inside.
"Yes?" I respond instead.
His dress shoes click along the marble flooring as he approaches me until he's finally in my line of sight. He runs his hand along my silky hair and gives me a small smile as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
"Be sure to post a video today. You didn't do one yesterday as I asked, so you need to upload one today," he says. I cringe inwardly. I hate having to upload videos all the time, especially when my father wants me to. I'd started my Instagram page when I was fifteen just for fun, having no idea it would take off the way it did. At first, it was exciting. All the attention, the money I made from the brand deals was nice, and what teenager with a rich parent didn't love posting their life for the world to see? But everything changed when my father took over as my "manager," claiming that I needed someone to handle the business side since I didn't understand it well.