Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
I unlatch my seatbelt to crawl into the back.
"What are you doing?" she cries. "You're going to get hurt!"
"Baby, shh," I murmur. Goddamn. Trying to shove myself between the seats is like trying to drag a bear through an anthill. I nearly kick Braxton in the head before I finally fall into the backseat beside Lola in a heap. It takes a minute to untangle myself.
"I could have pulled over," Braxton mutters from the driver's seat.
"Too late now."
"What are you doing?" Lola demands again, gaping at me like I've lost my mind.
Little does she know, I did lose it. Exactly twelve and a half days ago.
I slide over until I'm pressed against her, and then wrap my arm around her, drawing her closer. "Relax, sweet girl," I murmur in her ear when she immediately stiffens and tries to pull away. "Stop fighting and let me hold you."
"You're confusing me," she whispers back.
"I'm not trying to confuse you." I pull her even closer. Not even air moves between us. If it weren't storming, I'd pick her sexy ass up and plant her in my lap. But I don't want to take her seat belt off of her. "Is your head feeling better?"
"Yes. No." Her brows crinkle. "Maybe."
I chuckle quietly, running my hand down her arm. She startles slightly but then leans into my touch. "You're so fucking soft, baby."
"It's lotion."
"Nah, it's you." I turn my face toward her, skimming my nose along her crown. Braxton's gaze is heavy in the rearview mirror, his eyes flickering from us to the road and back again as if he can't help himself. The satisfaction in his dark eyes has my cock weeping for relief.
"Liam," Lola whispers, her voice shaking. "I don't think this is a very good idea."
"Yeah? And why is that, sweet girl?"
"Because."
"Because why?" I brush her hair aside and nip her ear, making her moan and tremble.
"Because it's not," she mutters, refusing to tell me what I want to hear…that when she thinks about me, she thinks about Braxton. That letting me touch her without Braxton touching her feels wrong to her. I need her to say it so I can set her mind at ease. "You're my boss."
"And you dream about me and Braxton anyway, don't you?" I growl in her ear, refusing to let her put us into that box. I don't give a fuck if we are her bosses for the next five weeks. She's ours. Our jobs have nothing to do with it. She can have the damn company if she wants it. If that's what it takes to make her ours, we'll gladly sign it over.
She makes a little gasping sound that's partly shock, partly distress, one-hundred percent admission. I have her pegged right. She has been dreaming about us. Not about me, not about Braxton, but about both of us. Knowing that…fuck. I'd hoped. And prayed. But now I know for sure.
I lift my gaze momentarily, meeting Braxton's in the rearview mirror. Pride blazes in his eyes, stark need turning his expression savage and ragged. He holds my gaze for just a moment, but everything changes between us in that split second. Acceptance passes between us, and relief. There's no going back now. This is happening. She's ours and nothing will ever be the same between us again. Neither of us are running anymore.
"We've been dreaming about you," Braxton growls to Lola, his gaze shifting back to the road.
Her gaze whips to him, her eyes wide as another of those sounds leaves her lips. Our little lamb has no idea the things we've dreamed. The things we want. The things we'll do. Goddamn, Braxton needs to drive faster.
"You've been driving us fucking crazy, Lola baby." I rearrange us in the seat again, giving myself better access to the pale expanse of her throat. "You haunt every waking moment we have." I tilt her head to the side to nip at her throat. "Trying to keep our hands off you has been making us fucking nuts."
"Liam," she gasps.
When a crack of thunder rattles the SUV this time, she doesn't even notice it.
"W-what are you saying?"
"He's saying that you're ours, Lola," Braxton answers for me, his voice firm and clear, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "We should have claimed you the minute you stepped off the elevator. We're claiming you now, lamb."
"C-claiming me?"
"Claiming you," I whisper in her ear. "Every inch of you is ours. We take care of you. We protect you. We hold you when you're afraid. We fuck you. You belong to us, Lola baby."
"Liam," she whimpers, trembling in my arms.
"You want that, don't you?"
"I…"
"Don't lie to us now, sweet girl," I croon, slipping my hand beneath the hem of her shirt. "You can have whatever you want. You just have to say the words."
"But…" She breaks off on a moan as I slide my palm up her belly, marveling at the way her entire body responds to my touch. Gooseflesh breaks out on her arms. The muscles in her abdomen contract beneath my hand. She arches toward my touch as if to get closer. Jesus, this woman is going to be a revelation when we get her naked.