Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 38541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
“Hmm. Do you want me to try them on now?” I’m exhausted at the very idea.
“No, we have spa appointments downstairs. I’ll leave them here for you to go through whenever you like.” Making his way over to a big white box on the sofa, he adds, “This is also yours. I have no idea what’s in it, and I was told I wasn't allowed to open it.” He points at it and stares at me, the silent message clear. He wants me to open it so he can see inside.
Walking over to the box, I lift the lid, exposing lingerie. It looks like there’s something in every color. “The good stuff,” Cupid says beside me, and I drop the lid, my face turning crimson.
I’m not sure why he bought it. One, I’m not allowed to wear panties and two, the tops of my dresses are normally tight enough that I don’t have to wear a bra. Most of them have a built-in bra, and I’m not rocking a ton of boobage as it is.
“Turn your phone back on before you give Mr. Townsend a coronary.”
I look over at Cupid to see him typing away on his phone. I guess I see where his loyalties lie.
“It is on,” I say smugly, because it is.
“Turn the ringer on,” he says without looking up at me.
Sliding my finger along the side of the phone, I put it back on ring, but don’t bother to look at it.
“Come on. You’ll have him storming up here in two minutes flat if you don’t respond to him.” He pauses for a moment, and judging by his reaction, he must see something flare in my eyes. “Or is that what you want?”
Is this how it's going to be with everyone around here after they find out about me and Charles? I groan inwardly at the thought.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I try to fake it, looking at phone and seeing four texts and two missed calls, all from ‘Sir’. I should change his name to ‘Pain in the Ass’, but he’ll likely give me a pain in the ass if I do, so I opt not to.
Sir: I didn't mean for you to stop texting me, I meant watch the cursing, kitten.
Sir: Kitten?
Sir: If you don’t respond to me, I’m coming up there.
Sir: You won’t like it when I get there.
It should piss me off how tight a leash he has on me, but for some reason all I find myself doing is smiling down at the phone like a loon.
“Strange. When I get yelled at by Mr. Townsend, I don’t find myself smiling.”
I drop the smile from my face as fast as I can, biting the inside of my mouth. When I look at Cupid he’s rocking his own giant smile, which only makes me burst into giggles. Oh. My. God. I’m like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush on the boy who always picks on her at recess.
Me: Don’t you have meetings you should be at?
Sir: I’m in one right now.
Me: Well, shouldn't you be paying attention and not worrying about my every move?
Sir: I’ll always worry about your every move.
Wow. I wonder if he knows how long ‘always’ is. It’s endearing to think of someone always thinking about me, that I’m always at the forefront of his mind.
Me: Always is a long time, Mr. Townsend
Sir: That’s the plan, kitten. You have appointments. Relax and think of all the dirty things I’m going to do to you when I have you back in my hands.
I had no idea he could be this sweet; that underneath all that broodiness was a marshmallow. Okay, maybe a hard marshmallow, but at the center there’s goo. I wish I knew more about relationships. Women always say men will say anything to get into your pants, but I’m already bought and paid for. This shouldn't have to be some game to him.
“He’s so sweet.”
“Never heard someone call him that before,” Cupid says, making me realize I said that out loud.
I like the idea that only I see his sweet side. That with me he’s somebody else. That only I know that side of him.
I suddenly don’t have the urge to go to the spa anymore after him telling me about all the dirty things he’s going do to me while he kept me in his office. I want to be there now, keeping him entertained while he works. Why didn’t he take me? A surge of jealousy shoots through my body.
“Do I have an access key?”
Cupid reaches into his back pocket, pulling one out. He hands over the white sparkly card that has my name etched at the top. Under my name, it reads Mine in bold letters.
“What does it open?” I want to know my clearance level.
“Everything.”
I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling, but I know he’s not fooled. I want to go pop in on Charles, but I know Cupid would alert him, so I'm going to have to give him the slip. The best place to do that will be at the spa.
“So you having stuff done at the spa too?” I ask nonchalantly.
“I could use a few things.”
I’m guessing not his hair, but I keep that to myself.
“Then let’s do it. I’m excited to get a rub down.” This isn't a lie, but I don’t want to be rubbed down in the spa. I want to be rubbed by Charles in his office, in places the spa won’t touch.
I head to the door, pulling it opening and heading for the elevator. When it arrives, I get on and put my card in so it won’t make any stops on the way down. Funny how quickly things can change. It wasn't even twenty-four hours ago I tried to keep myself as far away from him as possible. Now I’m starting to think I was so angry with him and picked at him because I hated that I was so attracted to him.