“The number is blocked,” Winston says.
No shit, is how I want to answer him but I restrain myself.
“I know.”
Winston squints, reading them again. “It says ‘nothing a fat dick in her mouth won’t fix.’ You think it’s from her ex?”
“Maybe. I didn’t think anything of it when I got them. Then I was caught up in wedding shit and forgot.” As I lay in bed last night with my wife tucked up all around me, naked and warm and with her hair in my face, I remembered them.
And I didn’t like them. At all. Now that I know McAsswipe is up to no fucking good, I’m starting to wonder if he’s the one who sent them to me.
That’s so obvious though. Not very Morelli of him at all—they’re a hell of a lot sneakier.
Most of the time.
“You should’ve told me about these a long time ago.” Winston hands over my phone and I take it from him. “I’m having Myron look into your phone records. The incoming and outgoing calls, all of them. That won’t be an issue, will it?”
“Why would it be?” I raise my brows.
“In case you’ve got any secrets you don’t want getting out.” His tone is casual, though the look on his face is anything but.
“If you’re trying to imply I’m up to no good and doing something I don’t want you to know, you have nothing to worry about,” I say dryly. “I have no secrets.”
“Good.” Winston seems pleased. “I always have to mention it. I don’t know if you’re seeing another woman right now.”
“I am definitely not seeing another woman.” I hold up my left hand, flashing him the ring my wife gave me. “I’m married.”
“That doesn’t mean shit and you know it, Perry. Especially between you two,” Winston mutters.
“You cheating on Ash?” I throw at him.
He seems taken aback. Just before he switches to furiously angry. “What the fuck? How dare you—”
“See, it sucks, saying that kind of shit. Of course you wouldn’t cheat on her. I wouldn’t cheat on Charlotte,” I say, flopping into the chair that sits across from Winston’s desk. I feel like we’re on a repeat of yesterday.
“Your marriage isn’t based on—love.” Winston spits out the last word, like he has a difficult time saying it.
“I care about her though.” I think of her climbing on top of me last night. The way she slid onto my dick, riding me in the driver’s seat of the Chevelle. Hot as fuck. Every fantasy come to life, right there in that moment.
“You’re just excited because you’re getting free pussy every night without having to ask for it,” Winston mutters.
“Don’t talk about my wife like that,” I snap.
His gaze dances as he contemplates me, swiveling in his desk chair. “Oh so defensive. Even more than you were yesterday.”
I rise to my feet, irritated. “Look into those text messages. See what Myron comes up with.”
“Will do, little brother. I’ll keep you posted. Oh, and I’ll run a search on your wife’s phone records too. Brace yourself though.”
I pause at his office door, glancing over my shoulder. “Why?”
“Might find out something you don’t want to know.”
I leave his office, marching toward my own and throwing myself into my desk chair, staring unseeingly at my dark computer screen. I hate how unsettled my brother’s words make me feel. He still doesn’t trust Charlotte and I get why. He doesn’t know her. Doesn’t have to deal with her daily and see her smiling face and sparkling blue eyes. The way she says my name when I’m buried inside her to the hilt, making her come.
Yeah, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a fucking clue.
I grab my phone and send her a quick text to check on her.