Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I glance down at my cock, almost certain the fucking thing must have fallen off. Hard or soft, I’ve never had a woman cringe at it before. Only as I look at my usual bulge in the front of my shorts, I realize nothing is wrong. She’s just fucking with me, and instead of taking the bait, I fix her with a hard stare.
“What the fuck are you doing? Your music is too loud,” I spit. “You’re gonna wake the whole goddamn building.”
“Oh my,” she gasps, placing her hand to her heart. “I didn’t realize. Did I wake you? Gosh. I’m so sorry. It’s almost as though that’s exactly what I had intended to do. But now you’re up, you might as well join me for my new aerobic routine. I’m really enjoying it. I’m thinking this is going to become a daily thing.”
“What?”
She leans aside and uses her thumb to point over her shoulder toward her television, and as I peer past her, I see one of those morning workout shows that used to air back when I was a kid, every morning without fail.
“So much fun,” she tells me, her hands curled around small weights as she starts pumping them up and down to keep in the zone. “You should really look into the benefits of working out early in the morning. It’s great for your internal clock, really gets your heart pumping in the morning.”
“Turn it down.”
“Oh no. I can’t possibly do that,” she tells me. “I’m only just getting started. I have another two hours planned, followed by a hot yoga meditation that I think you would really enjoy. It might help to work out some of that sexual aggression you seem to have.”
“I have a lot of things, but sexual aggression ain’t one of them, honey.”
“I disagree. There seemed to be a lot of unnecessary heavy thumping against the wall, so I’ve taken it upon myself to contact a sexual psychologist for you. They should be reaching out to you the moment their office opens this morning.”
I gape at this woman standing in front of me. “You did what?” I demand, knowing damn well a sexual psychologist is the last thing I need. Nobody’s sex life is healthier than mine, but the bigger question is, how is anybody going to contact me? The only thing this woman knows about me is my name and the way I sound when I come. She certainly doesn’t have my number to give out.
“Oh, you heard me right. I think her name is Dr. Amelia Mendez. I was looking over her website. She seems to really know what she’s talking about. I gave her all of your contact info, so expect her call, and do yourself a favor and actually be nice to this woman.”
“Wait. You gave her my contact info?”
“Of course, silly. How else would I have gotten her to contact you?” she laughs and turns away, striding over to the laptop that rests on the edge of her couch, and fuck, it doesn’t go unnoticed how the back of her leotard is wedged right up her perfect ass, showing off the perky globes. She sashays back to me before turning her laptop around to show me the screen. “This is you, right? Raiden Kane? Works as an International Sales Rep for IV Global?”
My eyes widen as I take in my company’s website, more specifically, my employee profile. “How the fuck did you find that?”
“You see, some asshole was keeping me up all night, so I figured I’d do a little research,” she explains. “Wasn’t hard. Took me all of three seconds to find your Tinder profile, which is gross, by the way. You really need to clean that shit up. You’re a walking STD, and women can smell that shit from a mile away. Point is, it was all too easy to track you. I know everything there is to know about you, Raiden Kane, and just like I told you last night, I’m still not impressed.”
It seems I underestimated this little vixen.
The firecracker goes on, stepping into me and raising her chin with defiance, fire burning in her jade-green eyes. “Baby, you chose the wrong woman to fuck with.”
Excitement pounds through my veins, and I find myself reaching out and curling my hand around her waist. I pull her in hard and fast, and as she gasps, she throws her hand up to keep from face-planting against my chest. “You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to it.”
She shoves against my chest. “Get your STD riddled hands off me,” she says, pulling away and fixing me with a hard stare. “In case you’ve forgotten, we have paper-thin walls, and after fucking that poor girl for four hours, I know for a fact, you haven’t showered yet, and you are not about to get all of that mixed DNA all over me.”