Free What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) by O. Y. Flemming Page A

Hopefully, he fits the
profile of what you two are looking for.
    Regards,
B. Watts
Financial Analyst Advisor
    Before I can shut down my laptop, a
message comes through. I see it reads [email protected].
That isn’t the email address he gave me. I open it anyway. He works
very quickly or I’m just slow.
    Good evening, Honey,
    I wish you had left a call back number. I would like to speak with
you regarding your decision not to work with me on this project. I
hear your input is a great help to Mr. Morgan. I feel you can be a
great asset to our team. If you will reconsider, I'd appreciate your
knowledge on this matter.
    Regards,
Mr. C. King
    Is this guy for real?
How does he flip from perv to professional just like that? I don't
even reply, he's supposed to be out drinking with Bryant. Now I'm
wondering if he ditched my bestie. It's not important; I don't even
want to think what's happening with those two.
    Two hours later, I'm
restless and can't sleep. My thoughts are about Cruz; well, more like
Bryant and the things he’s told Cruz. Bryant is already a fountain;
he doesn't know when to quit. Get some liquor in him, and OH GOD!
He'll ruin my ass. I cover my head with my pillow, because I can't
fathom the thought of Cruz knowing anything about me.
    “Bree!”
    “Holy Christ! Who in
the hell is that?”
    “Bree!”
    I jump from the bed;
the knocking is louder as I get closer.
    “Okay!” I say as I
yank the door open. “What the hell, Bry!” And my breath is taken
when I see Cruz standing beside a drunken Bryant.
    “I… we're not that
drunk,” Bryant says loudly. I grab him to pull him inside.
    “Thanks,” I say to
Cruz. “Thanks for getting him here safe.”
    “Oh, no problem.”
He slurs his words a bit.
    “Shit, you too?”
    “No, I'm fine; sleepy
as shit, but fine.”
    God, my conscience gets
the best of me sometimes, but not tonight.
    “Okay, thanks again
for dropping him off.” I try closing the door, but Cruz’s hand
stops it.
    “Look, get him on the
couch; he's not that drunk. He said he needed to get to you. So I
brought him to you. He was coherent when I um…”
    I look at Cruz
strangely.
    “When you um what?”
    “Look, I gave him
something that makes him drowsy, maybe a little impotent.”
    “Oh, my God! You
drugged him! The fuck’s wrong with you?” I try whisper yelling.
“You arrogant bastard, you can't handle a little competition; you
have to drug people for your advantage? My God, just leave.” I push
the door closed for the second time. I walk Bryant to the couch, and
notice my visitor didn't leave. I drop Bryant as gently as I can on
the couch, because dragging him was enough.
    I turn, only to hit a
six foot wall of man. “Ugh, please leave.”
    “Why? So you can have
your way with Mr. Lover?”
    “You have to be
kidding me? I didn't invite you in.”
    He moves close to me;
so close I smell a hint of bourbon and mint on him.
    “You will.”
    “I will what?”
    “Invite me in…”
He points below my waist, and I slap his hand away.
    “GET OUT!” I'm
stern about it. “NOW!”
    “Shhh,” he says
with his finger to his mouth. “You'll wake Mr. Lover.” His
devilish smirk is annoying. I so want to slap it off him.
    “I don't care,” I
say while grinding my teeth.
    “I don't care either,
really. All I care about is that pussy of yours that you've named,”
he laughs. “Again, it’s cute. And frankly, Bree, is it? I'm not
worried about that either.” Pointing again to my goodies.
    “And why is that?”
I know; I just have to know.
    “Ha,” he scoffs.
“Because Mr. Lover over there can't get it up if the dick fairies
hold it up for him.”
    I'm so disgusted I
throw a pillow at his head as he walks out my door.
    “Jackass!” I
scream.
    “Why am I a jackass?”
I hear a slur from behind me. Oh shit, Bryant. I run to the couch and
kneel down.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    “Who were you talking
to?”
    “Nobody, I mean no
one. Just lie down and