Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“What kind of rules?” he rasped.
“The kind where it’s okay for us to pick up where we left off in Las Vegas.”
He went still. “You mean…you think we should…do it again?”
My heart thumped in my chest. “I do.”
“We—we shouldn’t do that.”
“But we both want it. God knows I’ve thought about it for weeks.”
“You have?”
I nodded, tracing his jawline with my thumb. “Yes. You make an impression. I’ve gone from being highly suspicious of you turning up on my payroll to being grateful you did. I want to know you for longer than a few hours.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Chemistry and attraction are hard to dispute, and I know what I want.”
Raine’s Adam’s apple slid in his throat. “What do you want? Specifically, I mean.”
“I want to fuck you,” I whispered.
“Shh.” He glanced from side to side. “Someone might hear you.”
“Not my problem. I don’t care who knows I want to be so far inside you that you can’t remember your name…or mine,” I purred, setting a hand on his hip.
Raine groaned. “I—the rules.”
“Rule number one, sex doesn’t mean anything. It’s physical attraction. Nothing more. Rule number two, as long as we’re on the same page, we can do whatever the hell we want. Such as go to my house and continue this discussion…naked.” I licked the shell of his ear, adding, “If you’re game.”
His eyes darted from my mouth to someone or something over my shoulder. “It’s a bad idea.”
True. It was stupid, impetuous, and potentially reckless. “But it could be fun.”
“Okay. I’m in.”
10
RAINE
We hustled out of the museum and caught a taxi to his place off Grosvenor Square. I didn’t know my way around London yet, but I could tell this was the high-rent district. Stately brick buildings lined the immaculate streets in this area. Designer boutiques, chic cafés, and pricey-looking hotels gave way to rows of pristine stone façade townhomes with window boxes filled with ivy and spring flowers in welcoming pinks and purples.
The taxi driver stopped in front of one with an imposing black door flanked by spiral topiaries. Graham paid him while I gawked at my surroundings, then guided me up a short set of steps. He tapped a code into a box affixed to the stone and pushed the door open, motioning for me to enter.
I didn’t know what to expect, which was pretty much the norm when it came to this man. I should have known I was about to step into another world.
A bright foyer with tasteful brocade wallpaper, black-and-white tiled flooring, and a massive chandelier led to a formal living space. I noted modern art, jewel-toned rugs, a baby grand piano, and a huge sofa and armchairs positioned by an ornate marble fireplace. In other words, this place was insane. He lived here?
Maybe. There were no signs of real living, though. No discarded sweatshirts, sneakers, photos of family and friends, or random clutter. It reminded me of a lobby at a super-bougie hotel…beautiful but cold and very unrelatable.
But what did I know?
I’d grown up in a trailer park in New Mexico and had graduated to basic apartments in the queerest parts of San Francisco and LA, where my main goal had been to live among my people. I’d spent my youth looking over my shoulder, and I refused to do that as an adult. No way. I surrounded myself with rainbow flags and positive anthems of inclusivity. Sure, I’d known this kind of wealth existed, but I’d never aspired to it and I’d never seen it up close and personal. It was surreal.
I would have loved a minute or two to soak in the eclectic ambience, but Graham had other ideas.
He led me up a narrow staircase and down a wide corridor to a beautiful bedroom designed in subtle shades of blues and grays with a big-ass bed and a TV that could have doubled as a mini movie screen or a— Boom!
That was all my mind registered before he pushed me against the wall and crashed his mouth over mine. I opened for him, twirling my tongue around his as I pulled him closer. Chest to chest wasn’t good enough with so many layers in between. I slipped my hands under his suit jacket to pluck his shirt from his trousers and splay my palms on his warm skin.
Graham grunted his approval, tilting his chin to deepen the kiss as he thrust his hips, grinding his hard-on alongside mine. I let out a needy, greedy noise that was one thousand percent embarrassing and hiked my legs over his. We made out, humping like horn dogs, licking, nipping, and sucking as we swayed drunkenly to a rhythm only heard by us.
And in that moment, I forgot why this was a bad idea. It was just too good.
Graham was a big man with huge hands and a broad torso. He was taller, thicker, stronger, hairier, but damn, that was kind of perfect. I loved the feel of his beard on my neck and his hands on my ass.