Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Glancing over the body on my table—a forty-six-year-old father of three who was suspiciously killed in his office building yesterday—I finish up my autopsy and make sure I have all my samples prepared to be sent over to the lab. If I’m right—and I usually am—this man ingested a lethal dose of cyanide along with his turkey sub.
The only question is, how the hell did it get there?
My guess; the wife. It’s always the wife, and nine out of ten times, I’m on her side. You’d think men would learn their lesson about crossing a woman. If history has taught us anything, it’s that a woman scorned is a woman you should fear.
After closing up the body and doing my best to make it appear as though this man didn’t just have his chest cracked open, I zip up the body bag before rolling his corpse into the refrigeration unit.
The moment I can, I peel off my black gloves and toss them straight into the trash. Despite having my skin protected and untouched during my examination, I can’t resist making my way over to the sink to scrub my hands until they’re raw. While I love my job, there are more than just a few downfalls to it, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Once the mark of death has been scrubbed from my hands, I drop into my chair before searching for my phone. I could have sworn it was over here somewhere. I move a stack of reports around, shuffle my keyboard aside, and when I feel a strange vibration right under my ass, I finally find it lodged somewhere beneath my scrubs and my crack.
I let out a heavy sigh. Typical. I’m always leaving my phone in stupid places, and I’m not ashamed to say it’s not the first time I’ve almost cracked the screen under my ass. Probably won’t be the last either.
After retrieving my phone, I swipe my thumb across the screen, and a stupid grin rips across my face. Just as I expected, there’s a new text from the one and only Laith Mitchell.
Opening the text, I find exactly what I was hoping for. And just like every time I open a text from Laith, I can’t help but laugh at the name I saved him under the very first night we met.
Big & Long Schlong #2.
And no, I’m not exaggerating. Laith has always been overly proud of his large appendage. But I won’t lie, the whole number two thing is a bit of a sore point. I’ve always had a very healthy sex life, and before Laith, there was a string of men I could always count on, including Big and Long Schlong number one. But the day Laith came striding in with his cocky attitude and his dick swinging around like an elephant’s trunk, the others seemed to fade into the dark abyss of past lovers.
We’ve been playing the casual game for three years, and when it comes to sex, we’re more than compatible. As far as I’m concerned, it works because neither of us has ever wanted more, and while there’s certainly a real attraction and a potential for something in the future, it’s not what either of us wants right now.
My phone rings immediately, and an amused scoff rumbles through the back of my throat. “Yes?” I say, answering the call and wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder. Then as I wait for his response, I turn to my computer screen and madly click the mouse to get it out of sleep mode.
“You need me to bring anything? I was going to stop for a burger.”
My gaze floats toward the clock on the wall. It’s only ten. There are still four hours before my shift ends, and I doubt I’ll be able to hold off eating for that long. I have one hell of an appetite, and the moment I get a break, I guarantee I’ll be scarfing down whatever the hospital has on offer for its employees.
“Nah, I’ll have eaten by then. But if you wanted to grab something, could you pick up a mask? Balaclava? Something along those lines?”
“A mask?” Laith questions, his tone hitching with excitement. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? Feeling a little kinky?”
“Ha! No,” I laugh. “It’s so I can pull it over your head and imagine it’s literally anybody else fucking me. Hell, we don’t even need the mask. Your to-go bag from McDonald’s will do!”
The laugh that rumbles through the line is deep and seductive, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder what life would look like as his girl, but the thought is gone before it gets a chance to take root. It’s not as though Laith and I haven’t gotten a little kinky before. It’s one of my favorite pastimes, but for the most part, we stick to what gets the job done the quickest.