Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Her suggestion is enough to jerk me out of my lust-induced reverie. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait.” I pull away and step back onto her doorstep. “That’s not why I came here.”
“It’s not?” A mask falls over her face and I instantly curse my lack of charm. I never had any game with females. I’m too direct. Too serious. Way too controlling, as my ex-girlfriend Samantha was quick to point out. And I have a tendency to jump into things too fast—a habit Samantha also made me regret.
“Well, maybe it is,” I amend, “but I wanted to take you out. Can I take you out, Sparks?”
Her lips spread into a wide smile. “Sure. Yeah.”
“Let’s go, then. You ready?”
“Yep. She picks up her purse from a hook on the wall. “Where are we going?”
I offer my hand and she takes it—the tough girl from the station replaced by pure sweetness. Her hand feels small, soft. I love having it captured in mine—that she trusts me enough for the simple, but intimate connection. “It’s a surprise,” I say, more than a little nervous about my choice, even though it’s a perfectly nice restaurant. It’s just been a while since I’ve had a date.
Since Samantha moved out and took the kid I helped raise from my life without a backward glance.
Lia comes easily, though. No more questions, no arguments. Just like in her room at the station, she accepts my direction, my dominance. She may be made of sass and spitfire courage, but submission turns her on. I’m sure of it.
The question is—what am I going to do about it?
Cards on the table—I have several lurid ideas. I just know I shouldn’t suggest them.
Dating Lia is totally off-limits. Not only does she work at the station, but I’m her boss. And yet, the idea of shutting whatever’s between us down has me ready to quit my job just to fuck her.
Too fast, dipshit. Way too fast.
I hail a cab downstairs and give the address to an upscale restaurant near my place. She smiles as we’re seated, and I fucking love seeing her face open, her shoulders relaxed. The guys at the station have her on constant edge, ready to defend or prove herself. I hope she doesn’t feel that way with me. I wince a little remembering how gruff I’ve been with her. Yeah, I haven’t done anything to help her feel welcome, have I? It’s just now that she’s let me spank her beautiful ass that I consider her feelings.
“Hey, I’m sorry I’ve been a dick at work,” I say. “I’m not trying to ride your ass, I’ve just been worried—”
“Worried?” she cuts in, the tension returning. I curse myself for screwing this up again.
I hold my palms out. “Not that you can’t do the job. I know you can. I guess you just inspire something protective in me, that’s all. I’m a fucking Neanderthal—what can I say? I worry more about keeping you safe than I do the other assholes.”
Her green eyes narrow and study me. “That’s sexist.”
“I know—I’m sorry. I’m not saying it’s right. Just trying to explain where I was coming from. I’ll work on it. Promise.”
The waitress shows up and asks what we’d like to drink.
“Do you drink wine?” I ask Lia.
“Yeah, sure.”
“White or red?”
“White.”
I order a bottle of white. I’m usually a beer guy, but I’m trying to do this right. After the waitress has served it, Lia leans forward. “So, is this a date?”
“No,” I say, too abruptly. Her expression turns blank again and I hurry to say, “I mean, this”—I point between her and me—“isn’t happening at all. As far as anyone else knows.” I cock a brow. “Right?”
Her reluctant smile appears. “Absolutely. Nothing happening.” She locks her lips and mimes throwing away the key. She’s cute as hell when she’s not trying to prove something.
“Listen, I know I shouldn’t be here. I broke a million rules yesterday with you, and I could definitely lose my job over this.”
“But here you are.”
“Yeah. I sure as hell couldn’t let that ride without…” I hesitate, trying to make sure the words come out right. I’m not good with this shit. “—without connecting with you again. In private.”
She takes a sip of wine and grimaces.
I laugh. “Is it bad?”
She smiles. “Just not used to it.”
“It’s not really my thing, either. Next time I’ll take you out for wings and a beer.”
She grins and lifts her glass to clink mine. “Cheers to that.”
We order our food and she steals glances at me over the top of her wine glass. “Do you always feel like you have to take a girl out after you spank her ass?”
I choke on my water and cough, hiding my mouth with my napkin.
I’m saved from answering by the waitress bringing our food—her chicken, my steak. I watch her eat, enjoying her healthy appetite. She may be small, but her metabolism must be off the charts, because she cleans her plate in about five minutes flat.