Revenge #4 Read Online Free

and pushes further up between my legs.
    My voice trembling, I say, “Time off for what? Vacation?”
    “To go on tour with me. Not right away, of course, but as soon as everything’s set up. I’ll be the headline act, and you’ll be my groupie.”
    I clench my legs together, stopping his fingers.
    “Your groupie ? Excuse me?”
    Laughing, he yanks his hand away from my thighs and shakes it like I hurt him. The way he laughs makes me wish I had.
    “You’ll be the only groupie,” he says. “Just one.”
    “Dylan, you’re the one who keeps showing up at my window and serenading me. I think you’re the groupie in this relationship.”
    He laughs again.
    I don’t think he’s particularly funny at this moment, so I dig into my purse. Like the dress, the purse is a new purchase from this afternoon. I’ve never owned a purse before. I usually keep my wallet in a pocket, or in my ratty old laptop bag. But this dress needed a purse, so I bought one.
    “You’ll like this restaurant we’re going to,” Dylan says.
    “Cool.” I pull out my phone and scroll through messages.
    “Q recommended the restaurant.”
    I flip my phone over. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask Dylan about. I don’t want to lie, but I can’t tell him how I know.
    “How many times have you met Q?” I ask. “What does he look like?”
    “I only met him once in person, when he discovered me. After we finished off the pitchers of cheap beer, my memory gets hazy.” He chuckles at the memory. “Oh, I remember one thing. He had really small eyes. Like a mole or something. And he wore thick glasses. He was odd, like one of those genius guys who doesn’t have social skills.”
    “That’s it?” I say, keeping my tone light. “With a cool name like that, I expected him to be more like a James Bond villain.”
    “That would be cool.” Dylan grins.
    I prod myself to ask my question. “I keep thinking about that older couple in the matching hoodies. They were filming you when we first met. Do you think they’re working for him?”
    I bite my lower lip and wait for an answer. Dylan doesn’t know that I saw the couple visit his loft.
    “Turns out they are working for Q,” he says, his voice high with surprise at my question. “How’d you know? Never mind, don’t tell me. Super secret stuff.” He laughs again, like all these secrets are part of the fun. “I didn’t know they were at first, but Q sent them over to have me sign some paperwork. Nice couple.”
    “What kind of paperwork?”
    His voice goes cool. “The kind I’m not at liberty to discuss.”
    I fidget with the phone in my hands and grumble under my breath about keeping secrets.
    He responds, “Financial paperwork. Don’t ask for more. And don’t tell me you’re the suspicious type. If I happen to talk to a woman, you’re not going to get crazy, are you?”
    I turn and squint my eyes at the side of his face. Why would he mention other women? I’ve got a bad feeling now, ruining my mood.
    He glances over and gives me his charming smile.
    As always, my icy exterior melts under his hot gaze. The man has charisma, that’s for sure. One look in his eyes is like hearing the opening notes to a favorite song. Instantly, he’s got my heart, and my body, under his spell.
    “This whole Q thing is just weird,” I say.
    “My life has been nothing but weird. At least it makes for good inspiration.”
    I tear my eyes off his gorgeous face and return my attention to my phone screen.
    The mystery of the older couple is solved. I guess.
    There’s a bunch of new messages on my phone. What catches my eye is a message from a blocked number. I open the text and find a photo of Dylan.
    He’s at a party or concert, by the look of all the people in the background. He’s being kissed on the cheek by a glamorous woman with cocoa skin, full lips, and miles of eyelashes.
    Why would someone send me this? The only other information is a date—last Saturday. That’s the night