Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
That alone should be the first clue that this isn’t the best idea. I’m finding myself more invested in him and what he has to offer than I should be after only one night together. It gives him too much power. I want to please him, to make him moan, to make him beg for more, and that is bigger than any red flag I ignored with Sam.
With Sam, he fashioned those desires, turned them so I was always trying to make him happy no matter if my needs were being met or not. My willingness to do them now makes me suspicious of Chase’s true intent.
Minutes ago, I felt like I could’ve been anyone to him, so why should I feel any different now that he’s sitting on my bed and smiling that very same smile he gave countless girls in high school.
I’m somehow both ecstatic at the offer, and ashamed at being ecstatic. I don’t know if it’s old wounds keeping me from seeing his true intentions or if I’m blaming old wounds for not giving him the benefit of the doubt.
“Why?” I ask. “Why me?”
“Seriously?” he asks, a frown taking over his handsome face as he lowers the strip of condoms to his lap.
“If we can’t speak truthfully to each other, then I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
My words don’t match the way I feel inside at all because the second they leave my lips, my head is screaming for me to not be so damned foolish.
But that also sounds a lot like my time with Sam.
I never felt good enough. I always felt like he was doing me a favor by being in a relationship with me. It was another one of his manipulations so I was always ready to please him, not just in the bedroom, but in every aspect of the time we spent together. It kept me from voicing my opinion because there was nothing worse than the disappointment in his eyes when he didn’t agree with me. Eventually, I had no voice, and if I’m going to take over my life, then I have to start now.
“We had an explosive night last night, Madison.” He licks at his lips, his eyes dropping to my mouth, making a zing of electric current run up my spine. “I want to feel more of what I felt last night.”
“Just sex,” I clarify. “It’s just sex?”
I spend the next moment before he answers, trying to convince myself I can turn my head off and let my body feel all the pleasure he’s willing to offer me.
“Just sex,” he agrees. “When it’s over, it’s just over. No feelings. No emotions. No questioning the end.”
His agreement is what I demanded of him, but the second part of his agreement cuts some part deep inside of me.
What was I expecting the sexy hockey player to say? No, Madison, it’s more than sex. I’m in this for love?
What a joke, and not in a self-depreciating kind of way. The man has too much on his plate already. He’s got the boys, and his father’s store, and let’s not even think about that messy divorce he’s going through. He doesn’t have time for anything more with anyone.
He wants orgasms.
I want orgasms.
This is something we can do for each other.
“Boss with benefits it is,” I agree, chuckling when he climbs over my body, pinning me between him and the mattress. “And you can’t fire me just because you want to dissolve this part of it when it’s time.”
I press at his chest when he leans in to kiss me before agreeing.
“I’m not going to fire you, Madison. I’m going to make you come.”
Chapter 23
Chase
How last night was better than the night in the hotel, I have no idea, but it was.
We only used one of the six condoms I brought to her room, but we toyed and teased and took our time. We had no need to rush or try and get in as much as we possibly could. Our new agreement meant the next night we were the other’s open buffet all over again.
“What’s that about?” Dad asks.
“These are the saw blades I just found in the back. I had them out for sale last week.” I knew inventory was all jacked up, but I was working on the presumption that it was because of deliveries not being checked in or even worse, account keeping, but the look on Dad’s face when I hold them up in front of him is making me think differently. This is starting to feel more like purposeful sabotage than anything else.
“I was talking about that goofy grin on your face, but I see now that it’s gone,” Dad mutters, trying to scurry away before I can confront him.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask as I follow him through the store. The guy bobs and weaves as fast as one of my opens would on the ice, trying to get away from me.