Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“I appreciate the heads-up.”
If my reputation is anything of importance to me, I should leave it there.
Since it isn’t, I continue.
“I’ll also never be too busy for you, butterfly.” I clamp my hand over Roy’s mouth before rocking in my seat, crunching his broken toes on the dirty floor when he dares to sneer at me. “I was just about to take a break. You’re more than welcome to keep me company.”
Roy’s pained breaths stop beading condensation on my palm when I gesture for him to be quiet again before I move to a laptop set up in the corner of the basement.
As he breathes though his nose, his throat too hoarse to uphold my silent warning of retribution, I flick through multiple live surveillance feeds until I find Miranda.
The smoke lingering in the air makes sense when I spot her near a raging fire pit. One of the legs of the bed we broke last night is halfway burned. She has a second leg in her hand, ready to scorch it, but my offer sees her placing it onto the lawn next to a deckchair.
Her action shows she is accepting my offer, but her words say the opposite. “I’m not sure I’ll be the best company.”
“Because?” I ask, shocked.
I usually bolt for the hills before encouraging a conversation. I don’t want to do that this time around. If she’s willing to share the cause of the heavy groove between her brows, I’m willing to listen.
“It’s just… stuff I don’t want to bore you with.”
“Then why don’t we talk about stuff that won’t bore me?”
I hit Roy with a stern finger point, cautioning him to remain quiet when my next question riles him enough to tighten his jaw. I didn’t think he had it in him to go against me two times in a row. I’ll be sure not to make the same mistake twice once I’ve finished calming his wife.
“Like what are you wearing right now?”
I don’t mean to make things sexual between us twenty-four-seven, but tell me one woman who would lack confidence knowing they can make a man as hard as steel by doing nothing but breathing.
My dick leaks pre-cum just at the thought of Miranda’s smile, but words have little effect on a woman who has had them used against her time and time again, so I’d rather show her.
Actions will always speak louder than words, and my logic couldn’t be closer to the truth when Miranda laughs. Her giggles send a current straight to my dick and have my stomach grumbling like I didn’t burn through half her treats in under six hours.
“I’m wearing what I had on when I waved goodbye to you this morning.”
“Ah, yes. I remember. That sexy little red skirt with a flirty see-through blouse.” Her somewhat conscious laugh switches to genuine when I add, “Exactly who were you meeting with, again, and at what location?”
Since she is unaware I know all the details of her meeting and the couple she met with, she tries to subdue my implied jealousy in a noncontroversial way. “I work mostly with couples madly in love.”
Her swallow is audible when I reply, “As do I.” I rarely speak business with anyone not in the business, but the ease of our interaction has me more open than I usually am. “But rarely do they enter my hotels together.”
I watch her fight with herself for almost a minute before she asks, “Does that bother you?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “Because if they’re gonna cheat, they’re gonna cheat. There’s nothing we can do to stop them.”
Only now do I realize she partially blames herself for Roy’s inability to keep his dick in his pants. I can’t say I don’t understand. He beat down her confidence so much over the past fourteen years that anything that requires judgment has her immediately looking in the mirror.
It dawns on me that part of her contemplation was for me when she says, “I just don’t get it. Roy cheated because Tasha is—”
“Shallow, opinionated, and so far up her own ass her breath smells like shit?”
Miranda’s confidence flourishes on her face and in her voice. “She is also beautiful… and tiny. To some men, that’s all they need.” Before I can remind her that size has nothing to do with beauty, she says, “But what is Tasha’s excuse? Roy is…” Her sigh hurts her soon-to-be ex more than my fists ever could. “He was nice once, but no amount of sheen can hide rotten insides for long. I should have left him years ago.”
“That’s why men like him get their butterflies before they’ve cocooned. Young and optimistic allows them to be weighed down before they learn the full strength of their wings.” The reason behind my nickname comes to light when I say, “That’s why you’ve got to play him at his own game, butterfly. Show him that you can fly even while your wings are damaged.”