How to Kill Your Boss Read Online Free PDF Page B

Jacob, bloody and clinging to life on his newly tiled floor.
    Was this a dream? Only a few short hours ago, Jacob and I laughed over coffee. Now, the muffins I’d baked, as I did every weekend for him, sat in a pretty basket atop his counter, soiled with gore.
    “I’ll be in touch, Miss Wood.” He handed the bag containing my bloody clothes to another officer. The familiar ding of the elevator resonated through the hall. When Franklin stepped through the doors, escorted by a bald, stalky officer, my shield of numb lifted and like I’d been tossed in a tub of icy water, a brisk dose of reality drowned me in emotion that somehow, until that point, I’d held at bay.
    The men around me blurred, all but Franklin. After a brief word with Detective Waters, he pushed through the field of blue and stormed toward me. I couldn’t peel my eyes from him. I could hear nothing but my own heartbeat, see nothing but Franklin Reed. Then, he whisked me into my home, the door slammed behind me, and rock solid arms wrapped around my middle.
    “Tate. Are you okay? Shit. I was going insane downstairs. Police, ambulances.” He stopped talking and held me tighter.
    It was then that I started to shake and allowed tears to fall. I dropped to my knees and let the dam burst. Franklin followed me to the floor and cradled me. I don’t know how long we sat there or if he spoke. I did know, with Franklin Reed holding the pieces of me together, I could survive anything.
    I woke hours later on my couch, wrapped in the afghan my grandmother crocheted for me the year before she died. Franklin rested on the floor, back against the sofa, watching television with the volume on mute. I ached to reach out and touch him, but I didn’t have that right. He wasn’t mine.
    “Thank you,” I whispered.
    He turned, piercing me deep with a blazing gaze. Concern, but not pity, etched the lines of his face. “I couldn’t leave until I knew you were okay.”
    My heart lurched at the sentiment in his voice. It was the most desirable sound in the world. He held up a sandwich and a beer. “Helped myself. Hope you don’t mind.” Placing the food back on the coffee table, he turned and grabbed my hand.
    “How did you know where I live?” I pushed into the sitting position. He didn’t release my hand. Just held it, sure and steady. I trembled under the power in his simple, comforting gesture. Not from fear, but the raw masculine force that came from his touch.
    His smile soothed my jagged emotions. “Stalking 101. I took a class. It’s opened a whole new world to me.”
    I forced a grin. He reached over to cup my face. “I was worried I did something wrong last night. You ran out so fast. I needed to make sure we were good.” Caressing my cheek with his thumb, he studied my lips, then my eyes, then my lips again. Did he want to kiss me? I wanted him to, more than I’d ever wanted anything. Something held him back.
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I freaked and bolted. It’s just that—” I stopped. What was I supposed to say? Sorry, bub, if you want to get with this, I need a ring on my finger? I don’t do casual sex? Sheesh. Was there any girl my age in Seattle who didn’t do casual sex?
    More likely than not, a man as fine as Mr. Reed collected a plethora of over eager ho-bags. All of whom would eagerly spread their legs for the chance to be touched by the glory that was Franklin.
    I sighed. “I need commitment. I need to know I’m more to a man than just a place to stick his dick. Call me crazy.” I was probably the only girl in the universe who would run away from a man as delicious as Franklin, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.
    “Tatum Wood. What makes you think I wanted to stick my dick in you?” He pretended to be offended.
    “Well, Mr. Reed. It could have been the fact that your dick was harder than a diamond dildo and desperate to shred the fabric of my skirt.” Oh God, did I just say that? I needed to tighten the