Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
He scrubbed his hands over his face, and then ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the long strands in frustration. It was oily, thanks to the stuff she’d used on him earlier. The smell of eucalyptus and lavender still clung to his skin and he groaned… because it no longer brought his grandparents to mind. No, now all he could think of were those soft, soothing hands firmly kneading his skin.
Earlier her touch had been mildly arousing but mostly it had relaxed him and had eased away his pounding headache. Now his cock hardened at the memory of her hands on his body. He imagined her firm grip on his shaft, her palm slick with that mildly tingling oil and he groaned at the mere thought of it.
He shouldn’t have fucked her. Because now all he could think of was the taste of her mouth, her skin, her pussy. The silky feel of her skin, her soft hands on his body, the hot, tight clench of that sweet pussy. The sounds she made when he fed his cock into her hungry mouth, her moans when she’d sucked him, her helpless cries when she’d come undone around his shaft.
It was a distraction he didn’t want. Knowledge that should’ve remained a mystery.
He’d fucked up. Badly. And now he was left with this gnawing ache… a driving need that he knew exactly how to satisfy but also knew he should ignore for both of their sakes.
It was the only way to retain any control over this impossible situation.
Fern nervously picked at the fabric of her mint green Ralph Lauren day dress, with a fitted thin strapped top and a knee length lace trimmed skirt.
Cade reached over and covered her restless hand, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. Fern jumped in reaction to his touch. It was the first time he’d voluntarily touched her since she’d given him that head massage two weeks ago.
“You okay?” he asked beneath his breath and she slanted him a queasy little smile before nodding.
“I think so. I mean, I worry I’ll throw up all over Mike Holmes, or something equally humiliating,” she confessed wryly, before adding, “but I have hope that if it comes to that, I’ll be able to just swallow it back down.”
Her words surprised a bark of laughter from him, and it jerked her gaze up to his face in wonder. She couldn’t recall ever making him laugh before.
“If it’s any consolation, I feel pretty much the same. This isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse, you know?”
“But you handled those other interviews so well,” she reminded him, thinking back to their Zoom interviews with journalists from WSJ and Bloomberg. There’d been others as well, smaller financial publications as well as daily newspapers in the UK, US, and South Africa. They’d even done a voice only interview live on one of the more well-known international news media channels.
“So did you,” he said in answer to her comment and her brow furrowed.
“That wasn’t in front of live studio audience,” she pointed out.
“Exactly.” He nodded as if he’d proven a point.
“You’re nervous about the audience?” she asked in surprise. He always seemed so self-assured, like nothing could faze him. She’d had him pegged as a confident public speaker.
“I’m not a celebrity, Fern, this doesn’t come easily to me. Nobody will know who the hell we are. And nobody will care. We’re going to bore the audience to tears, while they wait for whomever the big-ticket mystery guest is.”
The Mike Holmes Show was famous for its frank, cozy chats with world famous celebrities. Pop divas, socialites, movie stars. Like Cade, Fern had serious misgivings about doing this. Although until this very moment, she hadn’t realized that Cade shared those misgivings.
And that only made her more nervous.
“You’re not instilling me with a great deal of confidence here, Cade.”
He gave her a wry little smile, before shaking his head.
“Sorry. But we’re in this together. Remember?” he prompted with an amused glint in his eyes.
“Surrounded by anacondas and great white sharks,” she agreed with a solemn nod and he gave her hand another reassuring squeeze.
They’d muddled along together well enough over the last couple of weeks, it had been mostly a whirlwind of interviews, with little space to ruminate or fret over their living situation or what the future held. The interviews had, indeed, instilled a sense of camaraderie with him in Fern. A belief that they truly were ‘in this together’.
It hadn’t really changed much between them, but it had made her feel like part of a team. Even with this final—she hoped—hoop they had to jump through, knowing that he harbored the same doubts about this particular interview as she did, she felt less fearful and more able to face the horrible hour to come.
They’d been ushered into the Green Room—after being slathered with make-up—where a young, harassed looking production assistant had pointed them to the snacks, offered them drinks, and had run through what to expect. He’d fired a plethora of distracted information at them, his eyes trained on his tablet, asking irate do we have an ETA on their arrival type questions into his headset. After a few more hurried instructions he had left Fern and Cade alone in this massive, lavishly outfitted room with life-sized posters of previous megastar guests on the walls.