Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I look down at Whitney, letting her know the call is hers. I’ll have to go to the office eventually, but for now I’m offering her control since I know she feels like she’s lost every ounce of it to the threat of danger.
“If we’re going to end up back at your place eventually,” she begins, swallowing as her eyes lock on mine, “I’d rather just go there from the beginning.”
I hold her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips to brush the inside of her wrist, nodding in understanding. I know she doesn’t like to go out often, and even though she’ll be in my place instead of at hers, I know that small comfort will help keep her calm.
Due to traffic, the drive back to my place takes longer than it should, but considering it’s Monday, I’m forced to just deal with it. The closer we get, the tighter the tension is in her shoulders. The guys joke, mostly ribbing me for being a nerd, but they keep the fact that I stalked her online before actually meeting her to themselves. I don’t know how long I’ll hold on to that reprieve, but for now I’m grateful. Small smiles tug at her lips, but what these guys are failing to realize is that she’s just as big of a computer nerd as I am.
Whitney is wound like a top by the time Flynn pulls into the underground garage. Her hands are trembling so hard, she doesn’t fight Gaige when he reaches for Simon’s bag. I pull her tight to my side as the guys circle around us at the elevator.
“We’re safe,” I whisper when the elevator opens with a ding. “My keycard assures no interruptions on the way up.”
I offer the card in question to Gaige, and he plugs it into the slot because it’s too far for me to reach, and I’m not going to let her go for a second.
I nod at Braden, a guy we’ve used in the past, when I see him standing guard outside the elevator. There are only two other apartments on this floor, and since we can’t demand other renters move, he’s there to make sure no one can reach my apartment door without prior approval.
“He’ll stand guard until seven,” Flynn says as Whitney looks over her shoulder at Braden. “Jason will be here then.”
Gaige uses my keycard to open my apartment door, and Whitney whimpers when he, Quinten, and Brooks walk inside ahead of us.
“They’re going to sweep the apartment just to be safe. I have jammers covering the entire floor, so there’s no way for Jones to use tech to infiltrate anything up here.”
I walk her deeper inside when the guys come back with the all clear.
“We found this in the stairwell,” I tell her, pointing to her abandoned phone sitting on my kitchen counter. “You can use it safely. I’ve updated the protections on it.”
Her eyes gleam with unshed tears.
“What is it?”
“Sarah,” she whispers. “I need to call her.”
“Sarah’s completely safe, but just to be sure, we contacted her to let her know what was going on. She’ll be staying at a friend’s house until we get all of this squared away. Call her,” I urge. “I know she’s waiting to hear from you.”
Relief washes over her instantly. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be—”
“I know, baby.” I pull her against my chest, pressing my lips to the top of her head. God, I could live this way, her against me, needing me for more than just orgasms and laughs. I want her to need me in all ways. “I know what you thought.”
She wiped everything from her computer before she left. She was running with no intention of coming back. The thought of never seeing her again makes my arms tighten around her until she squeaks from the pressure.
A throat clears behind me. Whitney jolts, but I’m more reluctant to release her.
“We’re going to head back to the office,” Flynn says.
The guys file out of my apartment without another word, and now that we’re standing here alone, the list of things I want to do with her are endless. I’d drag her to my room right now if I didn’t know just how exhausted she is. The hour-long nap on the plane wasn’t nearly enough.
Simon meows from across the room, still trapped in the backpack.
“Wait!” Whitney screeches as I cross the room to release him. “What about your bird? I’ve only had Simon for six months. I can’t guarantee that he won’t make a meal of him.”
“Puffy Daddy is back at the office. He enjoys the constant noise,” I assure her, reaching down to open the bag.
Simon hisses at me before jumping out and scurrying away like his ass has been set on fire.
“He’s going to hate me,” Whitney mutters. “I have so many things I need to get for him.”