Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“I’m talking about myself. Jeez. I meant it to be a little throwaway comment.”
“I know we’re talking about you. I just don’t get it.”
“Small. Me. I’m not small. Get it now?”
Her voice rises in the confines of the car, pain contained within it.
Finally, it hits me. She’s talking about her curvy figure, her wide hips, and those voluptuous breasts that have me imagining pulling down her shirt, freeing them, pushing her breasts together, and massaging them compulsively.
Before I suck her ready, eager nipples, I’ll look up at her and say, “Mine, only mine…”
She leans back. My hand drops.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You’re wrong,” I growl, knowing I should stop, but also knowing I can’t.
“What… I am small?”
“No, and that’s a good thing,” I go on, trying to think of the deal and that her mom works for me. “You should never be ashamed of your body. You should never be ashamed of your curves, of your size. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
Lucky doesn’t come close. Blessed would be a better description.
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it.”
Leaning closer to Madison, I breathe in her perfume, the scent of her hair. It’s a war of pheromones, our bodies talking without words saying all the things we can’t.
“You’re beautiful,” I say.
“Well, thanks,” she murmurs, her voice breathy as we gaze intently into each other’s eyes.
We’re in public. Somebody could take a photo. The deal, the deal… but none of it matters, not as I lean even closer, our lips almost touching.
“You’re talented, attractive, and curvy in the best way. Never put yourself down, Madison. I won’t stand for it.”
I’ve gone too far to back down. Even if I wanted to, there’s too much pulling us together. Closer, closer, and then I press my lips against hers.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Madison
Okay, this is easily the craziest thing that has ever happened to me.
I could’ve fallen down the stairs and hit my head. I’ll wake in the hospital with Mom sitting bedside, asking why I was murmuring about Jacob in my sleep, wondering if it’s the same Jacob she works for, but the reality of the kiss is too hot, and there’s too much pleasure scorching my mouth. He groans huskily as he pushes firmer against me, our mouths open on instinct, his words crashing through my mind.
Beautiful, he called me. This goes far beyond just being nice.
I’m surprised by how little thinking I have to do. Kissing him feels like the right thing, my body responding with a thudding heartbeat and tingles dancing up and down my thighs, tickling my sex, as I’m getting ready to take this man inside of me as if I’m some super confident sexual being who’s capable of taming the CEO.
Our tongues search for each other. Again, no thinking is required. He moans through the kiss. It sounds like this is the most pleasure he’s ever experienced. I’ve never known what it’s like to feel wanted. I do now. He sounds obsessed.
I flinch when his hand grips my thigh, halfway up, squeezing so that the tickling at my sex gets more intense. He begins grinding his hand up closer to my groin.
He moves slowly, giving me time to think about what this means.
He’s Mom’s boss, and I don’t know how she feels about him, except she gets awkward when she speaks about him. Then there’s the issue of Dad, the warning Mom has given me countless times.
“Men will take advantage of you if you let them. Be careful, always.”
I want to let him keep going. My panties rub against my sex as if teasing my folds, my clit throbbing in anticipation of his touch. I imagine him pushing his palm against my sex, massaging my clit through my pants, bringing me to orgasm right here.
“If you give them what they want straightaway,” Mom told me once, “they’ll take you for granted.”
Just outside the car, somebody yells. We break the kiss off, Jacob staring out the window. His expression is deadly serious, his lips wet from our kissing. He glares out the window as if checking if the person was yelling at us.
I’d feel sorry for them if they were. Jacob looks ready to go to war, just like when he was waiting outside Philip’s apartment. I’m starting to like that expression. My protective wolf.
The person outside is yelling into their phone. They didn’t even see us.
“What was that?” I whisper.
“A loss of control,” he says after a pause. “I shouldn’t have done that here.”
Here? What about at all? Not that I regret it. My lips are needy and ready for more.
“Do you always kiss women you barely know?”
“Never,” he snaps. “So, get that out of your head. This isn’t a story about a CEO who abuses his position.”
“I don’t work for you, anyway,” I reply, struggling to think of what to say.