Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Where’s Dylan? My heart races with apprehension and a flash of annoyance pricks at my skin. The one time he excuses himself for the restroom, Evan finds me.
He was waiting for this moment, I realize.
“Raven,” he says with a shark’s smile before leaning in as though he’s going to kiss my cheek. Instead, he whispers, “They would all line up to fuck you, but not a single one of them would hire you.”
He stands tall, leaving me stunned and wondering if he really just said that. His cruelty is vicious, hitting my weak spot with deadly accuracy, blasting it to smithereens and leaving a gaping hole in my confidence.
“After all, that’s what Sharpe is doing, right?” he murmurs, raising his brow sharply at the accusation. And then, he acts as if he’s just seen a friend, leaving me alone.
I’m left breathless, frozen in place, with my smile crumbling at the edges.
Is that all he sees me as? All he used me for? All that time, was it truly nothing more than sex? Was I that blind?
I thought I had prepared to see him tonight. I was wrong. A fatal mistake on my part, it seems, because our little tete-a-tete has garnered attention from those around us, and they’re watching me fall apart with barely disguised hunger, as if my embarrassment is reality-TV fodder for their enjoyment. Even those I had thought respectful and polite are now whispering to one another, their laughter-filled eyes fastened on me as if I’m a living, breathing car crash they can’t look away from.
Get it together, Raven!
Clearing my throat, I force my smile to return by sheer willpower, meet eyes with three people around me, and take a measured sip of my champagne. I’m doing everything I can to shut it all down—the shock, the horror, the feeling of not belonging.
I keep to myself on the edge of the ballroom, wishing Dylan would come back so we can leave. I’ve done what I wanted, meeting Ollie and the others, though I have serious doubts it’ll do any good after Evan’s comment. Secondarily, irritating Evan seems to be a lost cause. He wasn’t upset. He was amused by my appearance on Dylan’s arm. As if it proves what he thought all along—that I’m willing to do anything to make it.
“Fuck that,” I whisper, finishing off my champagne a bit too quickly. “And fuck him.”
“I do hope you’re using that in a positive way if you’re talking about me,” Dylan says, reappearing at my side. His warm hand finds its way to the small of my back again, and he gives me a flirtatious smirk.
He has no idea. I debate on telling him. But I also wonder if what Evan said is true. Dylan didn’t hire me, and while he’s been gentlemanly, there’s been a growing tension between us. Is he simply biding his time before he makes a move? Am I destined to be nothing more than a plaything for those in power, no matter how hard I work?
The idea startles me more than it should. Perhaps I’m more naïve than I would’ve thought because I truly felt that my experience and dedication would matter, that my skills and instincts would mean something.
I stare into Dylan’s eyes, feeling my foundation crumble beneath me but too lost to find new footholds. There’s concern sparkling in his gaze, a question of what’s changed, but when I lick my lips to speak, his attention drops to my mouth and that’s when I know.
He wants to fuck me.
Hell, I want to fuck him too.
Does that make it wrong? It definitely doesn’t make it right. But I’m not sure I care. This whole night suddenly feels like a waste, so maybe I should get something out of it.
Something for me. Evan can burn in hell. Dylan can too, for all I care right now. But I still have one play to make. A Hail Mary that’ll let the desire burning between us overflow into something tangible. An orgasm, hopefully.
A job?
The tiny voice of disappointment whimpers in the back of my mind, and I tell it to shut up. I’m not sleeping my way to the top, but am I willing to possibly sleep my way through the front door?
“Where can we go?” I whisper.
CHAPTER 8
DYLAN
Something happened while I was gone. I don’t know what, and I should definitely ask, but when Raven looks at me with desire in her eyes, my trademark logic and judgment take a backseat to lust.
Leading Raven through the crowded ballroom, I can’t ignore the burning little ember of her hand in mine. She doesn’t ask where we’re going, trusting that I know where we can be alone. And I do.
I’ve been waiting all fucking night for this, and the feel of her hand in mine only fuels me to get her to a private room faster. On the elevator, I nearly jam the button for the tenth floor. She doesn’t say a word, but her chest rises and falls with heated anticipation, and I have to grit my teeth to stop from taking her right here.