recognize the foreign object. When it did, Shakira tapped on it. Instead of revealing its contents a dialogue box opened up requesting a password.
“O-okay!” Shakira stared at the screen in puzzlement.
“Try guessing,” London suggested.
“I have no idea what it is,” Shakira said but she typed in Charlie’s middle name. The dialogue password immediately returned a ‘wrong password. She tried his birthday, his birth sign, his mother’s name – same result.
London also helpfully offered up some suggestions. “Imacheater” “Rochelleisaslut.” “Thatbitchprobablykilledme” “orgavemeanSTD”
Shakira laughed. “I don’t think any of those will work.”
Hours later they still hadn’t figured it out. It was a struggle to get London out of the house and on her way to the salon but the girl needed money. If Amani and Farah kicked her out of their shared house because of her pending rent, Shakira couldn’t help her out. Once London was gone, Shakira logged into her freelance account.
“Yes.” She pumped her fists up in excitement when she found that one of the bids she’d made had come through. It was only a one hundred and thirty dollar contract to help some guy out with his tax forms, but in her current situation one hundred and thirty dollars was like stumbling on a gold mine.
She was three quarter way done with the work when she looked up at the clock, only to realize that in about an hour Nathan would be back home. Her heart lurched in excitement as her lips curled in an instinctive smile. She couldn’t wait to see him again. Hopping to her feet, she headed to the kitchen. Supper was the least she could make for him considering all that he’d done for her.
The delicious smell of chicken cooking hailed Nathan as soon as he opened the door. It taunted and tempted him, niggling at his senses and wetting his appetite. His belly growled in hunger as the rest of his body lit up in excitement. She was still here.
Shakira!
He knew he shouldn’t have been so excited. Having her so close to him was dangerous when she was who she was. She shouldn’t be here and he shouldn’t be glad she was. But if there was switch to control his emotions, he still hadn’t found it. He couldn’t stop the instinctive urge to protect her when he’d found her in her car or the need to soothe away her tears. It would’ve taken a bulldozer to keep him from holding her through the night and making sure she was safe.
He’d watched the shows where people talked of being cat-fished and he’d always laughed. He wasn’t laughing anymore. This is how it happened. The only plus side about this situation was that he was aware of what was going on. Maybe Shakira’s staying here wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Bringing her to his house had been instinct, but he could turn it into strategy.
Finally he could have his fill of her and seduce the truth from her at the same time. Men and women were built different. While women formed an emotional connection after sex, men just got bored – so the experts said. He would satiate himself until he had her out of his system. When she finally showed her cards, he’d be watching, thinking straight and ready to take her down. And he’d be able to walk away when the time came.
Yes! He’d be able to walk away!
He shrugged out of his leather jacket throwing it on the couch before making his way to the kitchen. Her back was to the door as she flipped the sizzling meat on the pan. She didn’t hear him and it gave him a chance to observe her.
Damn, she was beautiful! Shakira was the only woman he knew who could make a grey t-shirt, yellow short-shorts and bare feet look even sexier than the frilliest of lingerie. He knew how pliable the body underneath all those clothes was, how her small waist felt in his hands and how it felt to have those long legs wrapped around his flanks. His fingers itched to unravel the ponytail braid that she’d drawn her thick hair into and spread
“O-okay!” Shakira stared at the screen in puzzlement.
“Try guessing,” London suggested.
“I have no idea what it is,” Shakira said but she typed in Charlie’s middle name. The dialogue password immediately returned a ‘wrong password. She tried his birthday, his birth sign, his mother’s name – same result.
London also helpfully offered up some suggestions. “Imacheater” “Rochelleisaslut.” “Thatbitchprobablykilledme” “orgavemeanSTD”
Shakira laughed. “I don’t think any of those will work.”
Hours later they still hadn’t figured it out. It was a struggle to get London out of the house and on her way to the salon but the girl needed money. If Amani and Farah kicked her out of their shared house because of her pending rent, Shakira couldn’t help her out. Once London was gone, Shakira logged into her freelance account.
“Yes.” She pumped her fists up in excitement when she found that one of the bids she’d made had come through. It was only a one hundred and thirty dollar contract to help some guy out with his tax forms, but in her current situation one hundred and thirty dollars was like stumbling on a gold mine.
She was three quarter way done with the work when she looked up at the clock, only to realize that in about an hour Nathan would be back home. Her heart lurched in excitement as her lips curled in an instinctive smile. She couldn’t wait to see him again. Hopping to her feet, she headed to the kitchen. Supper was the least she could make for him considering all that he’d done for her.
The delicious smell of chicken cooking hailed Nathan as soon as he opened the door. It taunted and tempted him, niggling at his senses and wetting his appetite. His belly growled in hunger as the rest of his body lit up in excitement. She was still here.
Shakira!
He knew he shouldn’t have been so excited. Having her so close to him was dangerous when she was who she was. She shouldn’t be here and he shouldn’t be glad she was. But if there was switch to control his emotions, he still hadn’t found it. He couldn’t stop the instinctive urge to protect her when he’d found her in her car or the need to soothe away her tears. It would’ve taken a bulldozer to keep him from holding her through the night and making sure she was safe.
He’d watched the shows where people talked of being cat-fished and he’d always laughed. He wasn’t laughing anymore. This is how it happened. The only plus side about this situation was that he was aware of what was going on. Maybe Shakira’s staying here wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Bringing her to his house had been instinct, but he could turn it into strategy.
Finally he could have his fill of her and seduce the truth from her at the same time. Men and women were built different. While women formed an emotional connection after sex, men just got bored – so the experts said. He would satiate himself until he had her out of his system. When she finally showed her cards, he’d be watching, thinking straight and ready to take her down. And he’d be able to walk away when the time came.
Yes! He’d be able to walk away!
He shrugged out of his leather jacket throwing it on the couch before making his way to the kitchen. Her back was to the door as she flipped the sizzling meat on the pan. She didn’t hear him and it gave him a chance to observe her.
Damn, she was beautiful! Shakira was the only woman he knew who could make a grey t-shirt, yellow short-shorts and bare feet look even sexier than the frilliest of lingerie. He knew how pliable the body underneath all those clothes was, how her small waist felt in his hands and how it felt to have those long legs wrapped around his flanks. His fingers itched to unravel the ponytail braid that she’d drawn her thick hair into and spread
Similar Books
