Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
His teeth nip at my bottom lip just once before he reengages eye contact, and I wrap my legs around his hips to clasp them at the heels. Pleasure seeps into every fiber of my body, working so deep, I swear it’s in my bones.
“Beau, you feel so good.”
He nods, his brown eyes soft as he sinks a hand into the hair at the side of my face. “Keep talking like that and you’re going to make me come.”
I smile, and he shakes his head.
“Holy fuck, you’re sexy.”
“Beau,” I moan, my climax rolling in so fast I almost don’t expect it. My eyes flutter and my head lolls, and time as I know it ceases to exist.
He puts his lips to mine, breaking the seam of their seal with his tongue, and I gasp as he picks up his pace, his strokes hitting even deeper. He’s chasing his own pleasure now, and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever been a part of.
We’re not just as good as I always thought we’d be—we’re better.
“Dude, I swear you were green by the time my brother showed up on his boat last night!” Avery says through a laugh, her ass on my desk atop the pile of papers I very much need. “You’ve got to do some reps, come out with me a little more, get your game back. I can’t be taking a lightweight everywhere I go!” She snorts. “What if Beau hadn’t shown up?”
“Yeah,” I muse vaguely. If he hadn’t shown up, then I definitely wouldn’t have ended up having sex with him. On his boat. On the open water for anyone to see.
“Did you actually yak? Or did you just feel sick? Because you actually look a little skinnier.”
“Ave.” I eye her shiftily. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, now you are!” she bursts with a laugh. “But I mean yesterday.”
Technically speaking, I didn’t feel good. I felt consumed. By Beau. So, kind of the same difference, right?
Right.
“Yeah, I definitely didn’t feel good,” I lie, raging guilt niggling at my every nerve.
“Well, you look better today. Really good, actually.” She swings her legs back and forth on my desk. “Have you made some changes to your skin care?”
It’s your brother.
“Avery, I need to get back to work,” I say instead of answering, a dismissive laugh making the words raspy. “I’m supposed to take those campaign projections down to Accounting right now, and I can’t do that if you’re sitting on them.”
She rolls her eyes, hopping off my desk with a thud. “You know, I really hope you get some sort of award at the end of the year for all this hustling you’re doing. Like a trophy. Or an Emmy!”
I laugh. “You could do some work too, you know? Then I wouldn’t have to hustle so much.”
She wrinkles her nose, her whole face disgusted. “Yuck. That sounds terrible.” Her face morphs into a smile, and she snaps her fingers in front of my face as an idea hits her. “You know what, though? I will go down to the break room and get a snack, so I’m out of your hair if that helps.”
“Oh yeah. It’s like I barely have anything to do now.”
“Great!” she replies cheekily. “I’ll see you later, then. But seriously, try not to concentrate so hard.” She gestures a hand in front of her eyebrows. “It’s bad for your elevens.”
I snag the file folder from where she was sitting, power walking to the accounting office at the far end of the floor. Brad, one of the numbers guys with a big brain, takes the folder gratefully but doesn’t say much else, not that that’s a surprise. He’s not a very social person.
I check in with Chris and Neil, running some documents down to HR for them on the third floor, and then get back to my rounds of checking in on everyone on the team. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that stopping in Beau’s office first isn’t strategic and selfish.
Unfortunately for everyone else these days, seeing him is a little—okay, a lot—more fun than seeing them.
Plus, after making excuses with Avery, I’m feeling an extra need to talk to him. This whole game of secrets and sneaking around and lying to my best friend is becoming an albatross around my neck.
Brow furrowed, he’s typing on his computer when I knock on the jamb of his office door, but when he looks up and spots me, his whole demeanor changes.
Serious is a memory; concentration is gone. Hello, handsome-as-hell smile that reaches his eyes.
Instantly, I’m warm all over, like having his attention directed at me is the equivalent of being wrapped up in a cozy, already toasty flannel blanket on a chilly winter day. I only ever dreamed that he would look at me this way.
“Hey there,” he says, his voice is all raspy from concentration, and my mind drifts back to my conversation with Avery as I round his desk and come to a stop beside his black leather chair.