Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Finally, I meet his stare. “I want to do it in private.”
His brow arches high. “It?”
“Get to know you,” I grunt out. “I don’t want to be rushed.”
“It’s Friday night. Maybe I had plans outside of work.”
“Cancel them,” I bark and then wince at my tone. “Please.”
He chuckles. “Since you sort of asked nicely, I’ll tell Mom we can catch a movie another night.” He turns away, giving me a nice view of his ass. “Let me email Tad one last thing and then change. I’ll be ready to go in just a few.”
While he finishes up, I pack my laptop in my messenger bag and tidy up my office. Once I have my coat on and bag slung over my shoulder, I close my office door, locking it behind me. Rylan’s desk is neat, everything all put away for the weekend, but he’s nowhere to be found. I wait impatiently because the desire to have him all alone at my place is becoming a need I can’t control. I want it with every fiber of my being.
He exits the bathroom and my mouth goes dry. No longer wearing his business work attire, he suddenly appears much younger than his eighteen years. He’s now wearing a fitted black long-sleeved Henley, holey jeans, black Converse tennis shoes, and a black beanie. All of his clothes are ridiculously tight. He’s a walking, talking goddamn temptation.
Since when, Adrian?
Since when are you this consumed by anyone, especially a guy?
Since never, which is why I can’t seem to keep my head about me whenever he’s near.
“I like this,” I blurt out. “Your clothes.”
His lips kick up on one side as his cheeks tinge pink. “You do?”
“Yes. It suits you better than the wrinkled dress shirts.”
A laugh tumbles out of him. “A compliment chased by an insult.”
My chest tightens in a torturous way. As though it physically pains me to think I hurt his feelings. I step closer to him until he’s forced to look up at me. Breathing him in this close is nearly too tempting to ignore. When his lips part, I can’t help but reach my thumb up to touch the bottom one.
“I like the dress shirts too,” I amend. “I like looking at you all the time, but especially now.”
His brown eyes search mine, his brows pinching together. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”
Panic shoots through me, nearly immobilizing me. I’ve fantasized having him in my apartment now as I cook for him, so the idea of him not coming now is crushing. I cradle his cheek with my palm, imploring him with my eyes.
“It seems like a terrible idea, Rylan, but it also feels like the best one I’ve had in forever.”
Leaning forward, I inhale him, unable to keep from doing it. His scent has overtaken the entire office. I smell him everywhere and I fucking love it. I want his scent in my car, in my home, and in my bed.
“You’re sniffing me, silly.”
“I like how you smell.”
He stands on his toes, slightly brushing his lips over mine. “I taste even better.”
I’m about to test his claim and crash my lips to his, but he pulls away, taking his intoxicating scent with him.
My dick is straining in my slacks, but I don’t try to hide it. Rylan is clearly just as affected as I am. Boldly, I stare at his erection as he pulls on his coat. Once he has his backpack on his shoulders, he gives me a sexy little chin lift.
“Ready?”
I stalk over to him, grabbing onto his hand. “I am.”
Rather than pull out of my grasp, Rylan lets me hold his hand. It thrills me getting to touch him. I don’t hold hands with people. I don’t hug. I don’t kiss. I don’t fuck. I work. That’s what I do. I work.
But Rylan makes me want to touch and kiss and fuck and feel.
His thumb strokes over my hand and he shoots me a curious stare. I don’t look away, instead pinning him with a probing look of my own. I’m not sure what he’ll find looking at me, but what I find looking at him is peace. Happiness. An easy feeling that creeps inside me like a fog, making me realize I’ve been tense my entire life waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Maybe there is no shoe.
No drop.
Instead, a fall.
A glorious, freeing fall into something deep and warm and soul-consuming. All I have to do is let go. Close my eyes and be.
We take the elevator down and stride through the lobby to get outside. It’s snowing something fierce, both of us wincing against the battering cold. I usher him over to my parking spot on the street, hitting the fob on my keys as we near. I open the door for him and take his backpack to toss in the back. Once he’s safe inside, I throw my messenger bag in the back and then join him up front.