Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Part of me aches for the madness of the veterinarian clinic, the hustle, and bustle, but the simple fact is the pay for this place was too good to pass up.
It’ll mean I can save and—
“Daniella.”
I flinch and look up to find Dom looming over me.
He’s showered and shaved, his jaw outlined even clearer without his five o’clock shadow. His suit is dark blue now, his button open at the top to show an enticing slice of his chest, making me want to dig my fingernails into his skin and feel how solid his muscles are.
“I didn’t even hear you come in,” I murmur, shock rioting through me.
Is this man a freaking ninja or something?
“I suppose moving quietly is a habit of mine,” he says with a shrug.
“Why would that be a habit?” I murmur, moving my hands almost compulsively through Lucky’s fur, as if I stroke him enough I don’t have to think about the ideas stroking around my consciousness.
Dom steps closer, the corner of his lip twitching. He must’ve sprayed some cologne after his shower. It washes over me, into me, until his musky scent is filling me up and I’m not sure I can handle it anymore.
I don’t know if I can take being this close to him and not reaching out and touching him.
Every part of him looks so hard, so taut like he’s a beast ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.
“Do you know the nature of my work?” he asks.
Lucky makes a harrumphing noise and hops down from my lap, walking over to the wide windows and curling up in a patch of sunlight.
It’s like the pooch wants his owner and me to be together, first by taking to me so fast when apparently he’s normally standoffish, and now by getting out of the way so there’s nothing between Dom and me except a few inches of open space…
He could close that space quickly, leaping atop me and smashing his lips against mine as I pant out my shivering pleasure.
I bite down, squeezing my legs together as my sex tingles and butterflies dance in my belly.
I’m very aware that I’ve changed out of my skirt and shirt into sweatpants and a tank top, the strap of my bra showing.
I didn’t think I’d see Dom again today.
Does he like what I’ve changed into? Is he repulsed? Does he care one way or the other?
Definitely not, a voice screams in my head. You’re his employee, nothing else.
“Daniella?” Dom says, the corner of his lips twitching again.
“I… No, I don’t know what you do.”
It’s a half-truth – or a half-lie depending on how you look at it – because I’m fairly certain he’s involved in organized crime.
He tilts his head at me appraisingly, as though seeing through my lies is the easiest thing he’s ever done.
“Why don’t I believe you? Don’t worry. You can be honest. I’m not easily offended.”
I fight the impulse to move my hands over my breasts, covering myself up so he’s not forced to gaze down at my cleavage. And yet I’m almost certain his dark brooding eyes keep flitting to my half-exposed breasts, and then back to my face… and then back to my breasts.
He probably wants me to cover myself up. He probably thinks I’m coming across as very unprofessional.
“I don’t think it’s my place to say,” I murmur, my voice catching when he takes another step closer toward me.
I’m head-height with his manhood.
I could lean forward and open my mouth, taste him through the fabric of his pants, making him hard or harder if he’s already excited by what I’m presenting to him.
He kneels down, laying his elbows on his knees, staring at me so we’re looking into each other’s eyes.
I’d like to think this would be easier than staring at his crotch, but somehow it causes my skin to flush, even more, the blush spreading with even more determination across my cheeks and down my neck.
“Go on, Daniella,” he says.
I swallow, nerves joining with something like fire.
It’s bad enough he’s got me lusting after him.
It’s bad enough he’s got my head flooded with a million silly thoughts.
But now he wants me to, what, to freaking talk on demand?
“Why does it matter?” I snap, unable to stop myself. “Your business is your business, Mr. Dudnikov.”
I get his surname right this time, but only because I searched online and rehearsed it a dozen times to make sure I didn’t embarrass myself again.
He grins like a wolf, as though he’s impressed with this sudden display of courage, bravery, whatever the heck it is. My heart thuds heavily and my skin feels like it’s on the verge of catching on fire.
He’s so close, so attentive, missing nothing.
It’s like he sees me and only me, like the rest of the world, doesn’t exist, and I don’t know how to freaking feel about it.