Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
“I doubt that.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sure you turn on a lot of men you meet.”
“Jesten, are you flirting with me?” I bite my lip to stifle my smile.
“Totally. But you dig it, right?” He gives me a cheeky grin.
Hmm, there is definitely something about this guy.
“I might.” Shit. Did I just say that? I’m flirting back now.
He smiles and winks again as the interview room door opens. I watch as Peter and George enter the room. Then I watch as a prisoner in handcuffs enters the room, Coby Allender. A cold shiver runs down my back. He’s intense and very intelligent, I can tell by the way he looks at Peter. He looks up at the glass and blows a kiss. I sit back affronted.
“He can’t see you. He’s just trying to fuck with your head,” Jesten says.
I nod nervously. “I know.” It’s working—this situation is freaking me out. For the next forty minutes I watch as Coby Allender manipulates everything that Peter says. This man is very bright and super frustrating. I find I am intrigued by this interview. It really is interesting. I had considered going back to university part-time to study criminology last year but decided against it. Maybe I should reconsider. Eventually, I am led out of the room by Jesten and we wait in the hall for Peter.
“So, are you going to give me your number?”
I do wide eyes at him. “No, I’m working. This is totally unprofessional.” I smirk, unable to hide it.
He smiles back. “You’re into me though. I can tell.”
“I am not…into you. You’re into yourself.” I smile broadly at the cheeky hot specimen in front of me.
“Well, I’m into you. Come back for another interview at the prison and we can have another witness date.”
I laugh. “Witness date. Did we just go on a date?”
He laughs and nods. “Yep. Hot, wasn’t it?”
I laugh again. “Totally hot.” I roll my eyes.
Peter comes out. “Ready to go?”
I nod and smile at Jesten. “See you later.”
He smiles and gives me a wink. “You can count on it.” Hmm.
The problem with being involved with a prickface is exactly that. He’s a total prickface who never rings me when I expect him to. It’s nine Tuesday night and I am waiting for the girls at Oscar’s. Abbie arrives first in her work clothes and I instantly feel underdressed in my gym gear.
“Hi, where’s Bridge?” She smiles and I instantly feel better knowing that my beautiful friends will put this into perspective for me. I always feel better after talking things through with them.
“Not here yet,” I answer. She nods and flops into the leather lounge next to me.
“Have you already had a coffee?” She looks at my empty cup.
I nod. “Yes, I’m trying to keep myself busy.”
She rubs my leg in a sympathetic gesture. “So, he still hasn’t called?”
I shake my head. “No, and I don’t think he will.”
“Mmm,” she answers. “I totally get lesbianism, you know. Imagine not having to deal with all this shit we cop from men.”
“I know, right?” I answer.
Bridget breezes in, oh no, she’s back on the love boat. Abbie and I roll our eyes at each other.
“Hi, sorry I’m late. Jim and I just had Thai together,” she gushes.
“Don’t you mean Jeremy?” Abbie asks flatly.
“Oh yes.” She smiles. “I just like to call him Jim.” She looks around to the counter and Abbie sticks her fingers down her throat, simulating ‘I’m going to be sick.’ I stifle a giggle.
“So, Tash, did he call?” She puts her hand on my knee and I shake my head.
“That’s it, dump the stupid ass.”
I smile. “I don’t need to. It seems I have already been dumped, by him.”
“What an idiot.” She rolls her eyes. “So, what happened on Sunday? I want all the details.” She sits forward.
“Well, we went shopping and then we had a fight and then we made up and then we pretty much had sex for the next six or eight hours.”
“Eight hours?” Abbie spits. I smile as I take a sip of my coffee. “Hell, is he on Viagra?”
I shrug. “I have no idea. I’m not sure what’s normal for him.” “I’m lucky if I get forty minutes,” Bridget snaps.
“So, how was it? Is he as good as he looks?”
“Abbie,” I snap. “It’s not like that.” Though I smile, unable to hide my glee at being able to report back.
Bridget points her teaspoon at me. “Don’t you dare hold out on us. We need details.”
“Let’s just say, I felt well and thoroughly used on Monday and my throat was sore.”
“Sore throat. Oh god, were you giving head all night?” Bridget winces.
I laugh. “No, my throat was sore from screaming. I think he was trying to kill me with orgasms.”
Abbie simulates melting down the lounge, while wiping her forehead. “Kill me now. I knew he’d be amazing in the sack. How did you get so lucky, bitch?” she snaps.