AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ve never worked with someone who made my cock as stiff as you do. Do you think that will be a problem?” he asked innocently, and enjoyed the flushed that pinkened her cheeks.
“I expect the utmost professionalism while we’re working together,” she answered. “So if it’s a problem, it’s your problem.”
“Are you saying I don’t make you wet?” he asked, injecting shock into his voice. “Not even when I stand this close?”
He stepped closer, following her until her back was against the metal elevator wall.
“Oh, you make me wet. I think I’m just better at hiding it,” she replied primly.
That made him laugh out loud.
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he promised.
12
Several hours and a meat pie later, Nita sat cross-legged on her king-size bed, her laptop perched on her lap. The glow of the screen cast a soft light in her dimly lit apartment, the gloomy Seattle weather making the late fall light darker than usual.
Drizzly rain sprayed against the windowpane in gusts. She normally loved being tucked into her old apartment full of Betty Boop memorabilia, flyers of her roller derby team, and sketches of potential tattoo designs all over the walls. Snug in her surroundings, with the weather raging outside, she normally felt safe. But the events of the day dragged on her.
Her suitcases, two massive 1980s beasts, leaned against each other by the door. She’d packed every shoe, outfit, and piece of jewelry she owned the minute she got home. Ryder had suggested she meet him at his hotel on her way back, but she’d declined. Two sexual encounters within twenty-four hours was already beyond her good sense. Adding a third? It seemed like a bad idea if she wanted to keep things professional.
“Three is probably his routine,” she murmured to her laptop screen.
Her taste in men had always leaned towards the extra bad boys, but she wondered if Ryder might be too dangerous for her own good. Her past relationships, aside from Luke, were mostly bad boys who were more talk than action. A few fights here and there, a couple nights in the drunk tank. Her guys usually had little “t” trouble in their history.
Ryder, though. He had an aura that said he was the real deal.
She adjusted herself against her huge purple pillow and focused again on the screen. This was the guy she’d be living with for two weeks, and finding out what Cavendish’s background check uncovered seemed like a smart idea.
With a mix of curiosity and apprehension, Nita entered her password into the Cavendish portal and clicked her way through the navigation until she got to Ryder Crawley’s folder. She hovered over the file namedBackground Check, then clicked it.
The details unfolded before her eyes—checks in Illinois, his home state, and Washington State, where Cavendish was located.
In Washington, no crimes were listed, but in Illinois, Ryder had a conviction. She clicked the link and waited, her fingers wiggling over the keyboard.
The file opened and her gaze devoured the image of Ryder that appeared. It was a mug shot of a sullen, angry young man against a cement block background. He held a sign that readMassoc County Sheriff’s Departmentand stared at the camera with a swollen left eye and an angry red scrape over his right cheekbone.
She scrolled down to read the arrest report.
“Convicted for aggravated battery, class three felony,” she murmured, skimming to the sentence. A two-year prison sentence. She did the math and realized it had been over 12 years ago, when he was 21, according to his birthdate.
She quickly opened another window and searched for “What is aggravated battery, felony three in Illinois?” When the results appeared, her heart skipped a beat. Aggravated assault in Illinois meant the person committed “great bodily harm” and “disfigurement.” The words sent a cascade of goosebumps over her skin.
Leaning back against the plush pillows, Nita whispered to the ceiling, “This is the guy I’m going to be living with. A legit bad boy.”
She thought of the man she’d met last night, and then the version of Ryder she’d met that morning, groomed and in a suit. Glancing at the screen, she stared into the resentful eyes of the 21-year-old. Whatever prison sentence he’d served, whatever violence had been in his past, her gut told her he’d grown from it. Hadn’t she grown from her own bad choices and misplaced trust?
Don’t go there,a small voice whispered in her head. No, there was no need to revisit those memories.
She pushed herself up again and scrolled through the rest of his file. Additional misdemeanor charges scattered through his past until he reached his mid-twenties. That was when he started his security firm, The Watchmen.
She opened a third window and searched for company information in Illinois. Other than learning he ran a physical security company with a staff of 10-20, there weren’t too many other details, not even a website.
“That’s weird,” she said to the laptop. You’d think he’d want some way to get more sales. Unless he provided the kind of security you didn’t want to advertise.
Her thoughts flew to the way he’d moved his knife through the air, the curved blade flashing. He’d moved it like it was an extension of his body, and it had both scared and thrilled her.
She opened a fourth window and tried to remember the name he’d called it. A carmabita? No, a carber—
