Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I don’t know what’s the matter with me, but all my self-control abandons me as soon as I’m alone with Dax.
In fairness, I’ve never had a boss who’s single and sexy as hell. I’ve never been tested to this extent as a result. But if every single one of my friends were asked to vote, none of them would say I’d risk my job for a roll in the hay.
So what’s different about Dax?
Everything, my body sings.
It’s not logical. It’s chemical.
I’ve been pacing the length of my bedroom since I excused myself from dinner with Jacob and Dax. I step over the still-disorganized books and trinkets, hoping my thoughts will slot neatly into place if I just keep moving.
Maybe we need to get it over with. Sleep together once, and maybe that will be that. If it’s just once, then maybe he won’t fire me. Especially if I’m super professional and the next morning act like nothing happened.
That’s the answer—scratch the itch.
Then be done.
Someone must have opened the kitchen door, because I can hear both of them now. I stop by my bedroom door. Waiting. Listening.
For what? I don’t know.
Then silence. Did Jacob leave? My heart speeds up, like an overexcited puppy.
What now?
I hear them in the hallway again. They must have gone to check on Guinevere.
Are they going to go back into the kitchen, or will Jacob leave?
And then what? Do I leave things hanging, or do I put on my big-girl pants, open my bedroom door, and…
An image of my sister holding a sign saying “go get your man” flashes in my brain. I shake it off.
All I can hear now is muttering, then the click of the front door and the slide of the lock.
My heart is thud, thud, thudding in my chest. In my fingertips. Between my legs.
I reach for the door handle and pull back, as if it might bite me.
What do I want? I ask myself.
A job, I think. To be able to support my brother and sister.
A place to live. I haven’t had a home since my parents died.
A period of quiet, where I’m not firefighting or untangling a catastrophe.
Dax.
Dax.
Dax.
I grab the door handle and yank.
And yelp as I come face-to-face with Dax.
“I was debating whether to knock. I get that the power dynamic is weird and this is your space.”
I nod, a nugget of pride burrowing into my chest. His mum did a good job. I don’t know why I’m feeling proud about it, but here we are.
“I want…”
His eyebrows lift as he waits for me to finish my sentence.
One night, I think. Just one night when I don’t have to think about anything but right now.
“You,” I finish.
A smile curls around his face. “I want you too.”
He hooks his fingers around my waist and pulls me toward him. Every pound of responsibility I usually feel weighing down my shoulders drops to the ground.
I look up, his gaze so completely enveloping it’s like he sees more than anyone else. Like he knows me better than I know myself.
He reaches behind my hair. “I want to see it down.”
“My hair?” I ask, a little confused.
He nods once and I reach back, pulling out the two clips that keep it in place.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, cupping my neck. “I don’t think I realized how beautiful until I saw you that first night with your hair down.”
“Backgammon night?” I ask.
A grin spreads across his face. “Backgammon night.”
That was the night things started to shift.
“You know I let you win that second game.”
He chuckles. “Sure you did.”
We stand there in my bedroom doorway for seconds, minutes, hours, staring at each other, on the precipice of something.
His thumb sweeps across my lips and then he bends to kiss me. My body sags in relief. It’s been such a long time coming. In this moment, I feel I’m right where I’m meant to be. What’s happening brings so many complications, so much ambiguity, but it doesn’t stop me. It’s like there’s an external force keeping me where I am, preventing me from running, from letting my logical brain take over. It’s as if the choice has been made for me by forces bigger and stronger than I could ever hope to be.
It feels like being here with Dax is my only option—and I’m not looking for an out.
TWENTY-FOUR
Dax
There are a thousand reasons why this is a bad idea, but I can’t think of any of them right now. All I can do is feel Eira’s soft skin under my fingers, smell the scent of honey and rose petals, and listen to the sounds of Eira’s breathing falling into the same rhythm as mine. It’s as if every minute we’re together, we bind tighter, like the external world falls away and we exist on our own plane, free from consequence.