Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Not for the first time this morning, a lump built in his throat. “Yeah.”
“B-but . . . ,” she sputtered. “Why?”
“Because you’re . . . you, Josephine. And for the record, you’re worth a hell of a lot more. I just have to prove myself before that’s possible—and I will. For you. For . . . us.” Even from across the room, he swore he heard her breath quicken. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Not a hint of doubt in her voice. What had he done to deserve her?
“Good, let’s—”
She gasped. “Are we going to try to match outfits?”
“Hell no, Josephine. Absolutely not.”
Chapter Twenty
Oh yes, they did end up in matching outfits.
By accident.
Or was it?
After five years of being a Wells superfan, Josephine had the advantage of knowing the colors he favored—and baby blue was among them. As soon as they walked into the conference room and she did a quick survey of both tables, she knew the polo shirt he was going to pick off the men’s side of the room. It was more of a glacial shade than baby blue, but it was the closest to his signature color. And as luck would have it, there was a skirt that matched the shirt exactly, down to the navy logo.
“Do you want to play a game?”
Wells narrowed his eyes at her. “This feels like a trap.”
“Me? Set a trap?” She blinked innocently. “Come on. Say yes.”
He crossed his arms and sighed but couldn’t quite keep the amusement from his expression. “Explain first.”
Josephine swept a hand over the wide array of garments. “We pick and get dressed in an outfit without letting the other person see it. But once we put it on, that’s it. No changing.”
“You’re stuck with whatever you pick.”
“That’s right.”
Wells stroked his chin. “Somehow, I know I’m going to regret saying yes to this. But the fact that it entails you getting seminaked is putting me in an agreeable mood.”
“Uh-uh.” She walked over to the door and engaged the lock. “No peeking.”
“Josephine,” he warned. “You’re making me hard.”
Never could she have predicted that a man making blunt references to his junk could rev her hormones like a tank engine. “Better be careful zipping up, then, I guess,” she breathed.
He laughed with a flash of white teeth, smile lines and all. Utterly gorgeous.
She tried not to make it obvious how that laugh made her heart beat at a dizzying pace.
Holy moly. If he ever laughed like that on camera, this was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to sponsorship opportunities.
Wells waved a hand in front of her face. “You alive in there, belle?”
“What? Yes,” she blurted, turning her back. “Okay. On your mark. Get set.”
“Go.”
She didn’t have to sneak a look over her shoulder to know Wells went straight for that glacier blue. But she did underestimate how clumsy her fingers would become knowing he’d stripped off his own shirt to put on the new one. The soft ripple of fabric sliding up his chest and falling to the floor nearly made her eyes cross, her knee bumping awkwardly into one of the conference-room chairs as she reached for the ice-blue skirt.
“You okay over there?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” she said quickly, peeling down her leggings.
“Uh-huh.”
She tugged the skirt up around her hips, chewing her bottom lip while selecting a white polo shirt. Off came her top. Before she could drop the new shirt over her head, warmth met her bare back. “I peeked, belle.” Wells gripped her hips, slowly pulling her butt back into his lap, his open mouth trailing up the side of her neck. “Your ass looks so ripe in this skirt, I can’t even be mad that you tricked me into matching.”
Wells turned Josephine around to face him, settled his mouth on top of hers, and walked her backward, using his grip on her hips to boost her up onto the conference-room table. Josephine all but sobbed from the sudden storm of need. “Wells . . .”
“I know.” He hooked his hands beneath her knees and yanked her to the very edge of the table, bringing their lower bodies flush—and ohhh. He hadn’t been exaggerating about being hard. “I know we’ve got a round of golf to play before I’m inside you, but Christ, these fucking thighs make it so hard to wait.” Fisting Josephine’s hair, he tilted her head back and slid the very tip of his tongue up the curve of her throat. “At least let me eat your pussy.” He wound her ponytail tighter around his fist. Tighter. “You like the sound of that, Josephine? I think you do, baby. Your legs are shaking.”
“I . . . um . . .”
“You chose a skirt for a reason, didn’t you?” Wells groaned into her neck, his mouth sweeping across her cheek to attack her mouth, kissing her roughly, growling when she returned the kiss in kind. “You were hoping I’d get on my knees and lick it.”