Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
The man on the stage kept talking about the work of the charity and how it benefited police officers who’d fallen in the line of duty. It was just background noise now that Slate looked at me like that.
I held his gaze and remembered how it felt to sit in his lap, to feel that impressive dick rub me to a climax.
He moved in and kissed me, his palm flat against my head as he kept me close. We were in public, but he didn’t seem to care about the affection, kissing me in such a sexy way when everyone could watch.
That was when the man on stage announced Slate. “Slate Remington from Remington Resorts, our biggest donor, is here to share a few words. Let’s welcome him to the stage.” Applause sounded.
Slate finished the kiss instead of pulling back immediately. He let his lips linger a second longer, like he didn’t care that the entire ballroom could see him kiss me. Then he left my embrace and buttoned his jacket as he took the stage.
I watched him move up the stairs, his body so thick and powerful. I started to clap and noticed the way his brother and his fiancée barely tapped their palms together. I had no idea what started their bad blood, but I assumed Coen was the one responsible. I couldn’t picture Slate doing anything to cause such tension. He was an asshole most of the time, but not unbearably so.
My eyes moved to the stage.
Slate took the podium like he was at his best when a crowd of people were staring at him. “Enough can’t be said to thank the brave men and women who keep our streets safe day and night. This is the charity my brother and I support the most, and that’s because it’s very close to our hearts. I was sitting in my office a few years ago when an armed gunman stormed my floor.”
I held my breath, not expecting this story.
“I’ll save you the details because they don’t matter. But I can assure you that moment wasn’t my finest. They had my three young secretaries tied up in the corner and a gun in my face as he asked me to hand over all the assets in my bank account. He had the wire transfer set up and ready to go. Of course, I don’t negotiate with terrorists, so I refused. If the New York City Police Department hadn’t acted as quickly and efficiently as they did on that afternoon, I wouldn’t be here today. The man had the barrel pointed right between my eyes—and it was only a matter of seconds before he pulled the trigger. Fortunately, that didn’t happen. The officers arrested the man who held me at gunpoint and disarmed the situation with no lives lost. It was courageous, noble, and inspiring.” He made his speech without any notes. Everything he said was completely from memory. “Unfortunately, that’s not always the case. Thousands of officers every year lose their lives in the line of duty. This charity supports their loved ones when they’re gone, provides for their spouses, and gives their children full-ride scholarships to any college they choose. It’s a great program, and my brother and I will always be involved. Thank you to everyone for giving your donations this year. I’ve been told the program has raised more money this year than ever before. And that truly is amazing.”
When the evening was over, we got into the back of his town car.
“My place or yours?” He sat near the window and looked at me with indifference, like it didn’t matter if I wanted to go home or spend some time with him at his penthouse.
I had a bunch of questions for him. “Yours.”
He told the driver where to go.
There was a lot of traffic that evening since it was a Saturday, so we sat in silence for the next twenty minutes until we arrived at his building. We took the elevator to the top then stepped inside his silent living room, no longer surrounded by the obnoxious sounds of traffic or mingling people.
He stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the armchair. “Would you like a drink?”
“I’ve done enough drinking for the night.”
He poured himself a scotch before he came back to me. “If your dress is still on, then you haven’t.” He took a drink then handed the glass to me.
I took a sip then licked my lips.
He took it back and eyed my mouth, like he wished he could have been the drop of liquor that was there just a moment ago.
“I have questions.”
“I figured you would.”
“That story is true?”
He set the glass on the end table then loosened his tie. He pulled it out of his collar and set it on top of his jacket. His fingers worked his shirt next, popping all the buttons and revealing his beautiful tanned skin. “Yes.”