Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
God, my heart thundered in my chest, sending an electric current of excitement through my veins. I’d thought about her more than I wanted to admit over the past eight months. Hell, even before then, when I’d only spoken to her briefly in the bar last year. She’d been beautiful and hurting, and I’d wanted to be the man to make her feel better, but she’d turned me down, which had probably been the right choice. I’d been drinking my woes away too, after another argument with my parents.
But after having her, tasting her, touching her, knowing what her cries of pleasure felt like, what her heat felt like wrapped around my cock, there was no coming back from that. I’d fucked a few women since then, but it’d been hard to concentrate on them, and Carina had always been there in the back of my mind. Now, I’d get to sit across from her for dinner and discuss our future.
The idea had a smile stretching my lips like a love-sick fool. Not that I loved her, but I loved that baby. I’d only rested my hand on her stomach, but the connection was there—the want and need were there. My dad could say all he wanted about me not being dependable, but that baby would know nothing other than devout devotion from me. It’d be the family I never had, and I couldn’t help but see Carina by my side in that image.
Maybe I’d leave work early and grab some flowers. The restaurant was just around the block, so I’d have plenty of time.
I hung up the phone, and dropped my head back on the leather seat, running my hand over my face. The phone call had gone on longer than I’d expected. Between the excruciatingly long conversation and my parents at lunch, my brain was fried. I was ready to power down my computer and go home, maybe drink and watch baseball until I passed out.
Just as my computer shut off, a woman came barreling in. She smiled as she prowled across the room, ocean blue eyes locked on me like I was fresh meat and she hadn’t eaten in years.
“Rebecca.”
One of the few women I’d had a repeat with over the past six months.
“Miss me?” she asked, rounding my desk.
Not really, but instead of answering, I gave her an easy smile. It wasn’t her fault; I just didn’t miss any of the women I fucked.
“Because I missed you.” She gripped the fabric of her pencil skirt at her hips when she stood before me and began bunching it up. “I happened to be in the area and thought, why not stop by for a quickie. You’ve always been up for that.”
She bared her creamy thighs exposed above her black lacy garters before she wedged her legs on either side of mine and straddled me. Immediately my hands moved to her hips to hold her steady, and she took the invitation to latch on to my neck, humming her approval.
I leaned back to give her room but hesitated when I thought of Carina. Would she care that I had a woman on my lap? It wasn’t like we were together, and I could really do with blowing off some steam for the day.
Just as I began to let myself give in to the woman on top of me, my eyes snagged on the clock on my desk. Seven-thirteen.
Alarm bells clanged in my head, and it hit me like a train—fucking dinner with Carina.
“Shit. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Rebecca moaned when I gripped her hips hard. But it quickly shifted to a gasp when I shoved her off and tugged her skirt down.
“I can’t do this right now—or ever. Sorry, Rebecca, but I have to go.”
I ushered her out of my office and to the elevator, opting for the stairs so I could sprint down and save time. Before I left the building, I sent a quick message, praying she didn’t send my ass to the curb forever.
But knowing I deserved it if she did.
8 Carina
Ian: On my way.
On his way? On. His. Way?
I re-read the message at least seventeen more times, very quickly losing my mind until I was screaming it in my head.
I sat my phone down on the wood tabletop before I chucked it against the wall in a fit of rage. I’d been sitting at the table for twenty minutes because I was a responsible person and showed up early. And now it was fifteen minutes after he was supposed to be here, and he messaged me with on. His. Way.
This must have been what it felt like before people went on a massive killing spree because I think I could kill him, and everyone that got in my way of that task.
I snatched the last chip from the basket and almost crushed it when I shoved it in the salsa, barely paying attention to what I was doing. I probably looked like a rabid animal as I chomped a bite off, my lips snarled, my eyes trying to set fire to the empty seat across from me. Not only was I sick and tired of waiting for some incompetent asshole, but I was also hungry—no, I was hangry. The chips and three glasses of water weren’t cutting it.