Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Then his mouth was on mine, his lips gentle, seeking, and warm. With a sigh, I opened to him, and he pulled me closer, kissing me. He tasted of wine, decadent and delicious. It was different from other kisses we had shared. There was an underlying tenderness to his mouth, a slow, sensual drag to his tongue. He caressed the back of my head with his fingers, his other hand splayed wide across my back. He kissed me until I was breathless, clutching at his shirt and trembling in his arms. He drew back, his eyes shining in the light.
“You taste perfect too. I love your hair like this—wild and out of control. The way you make me feel.”
“Jaxson,” I whispered, overcome with longing.
“Tell me what you need, Gracie.”
“You.”
He lifted me off my feet, settling me on the counter and stepping between my legs. I could feel him, hard and ready.
“Then you get me.”
Jaxson grinned at me around a mouthful of his delicious pasta. He chuckled as I dropped my eyes, taking a sip of my wine. He had kissed me again earlier, his hold on me tight, until a timer sounded on the stove. He drew back and touched the end of my nose. “Enough of that. I need to feed you.”
I watched him walk away, disappointment pooling inside. I had felt better in his arms. I always felt better in his arms. I had wanted him to take it further, but he didn’t.
As if he knew what I was thinking, he smiled, his dimple deepening.
I took a bite of my pasta, trying to ignore the burning in my cheeks.
After dinner, we cleaned up and sat in the living room. I looked out the window, the city a blanket of white. Jaxson sat across from me, silent, sipping a scotch. It occurred to me he’d drunk quite a bit. Wine before and with dinner, and now scotch. I wondered why.
“Thank you for putting up with my family today.”
“They needed to see you. I understand that.”
“Why did you come yesterday?” I asked. “You were frustrated with me.”
“How could I not?” he replied. “At best, your home was burning. At worst…well, I can’t even put that into words. I had to go find you.” He was quiet for a moment. “I was terrified, Grace. Terrified you were hurt—or worse.” He closed his eyes. “I couldn’t begin to fathom that.”
His confession startled me, and I decided to seize on his openness.
“Yet a few weeks ago, you tore us apart. Why, Jaxson?”
He drained his glass. “I wondered when you would ask that question.”
“I’m asking it now. I didn’t understand then—I still don’t. What did I do so wrong that weekend that you ended it?”
“You didn’t do anything, Gracie. I did.”
I frowned in confusion.
Jaxson sighed, leaning forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “I was arrogant. We’d done a good job hiding our relationship, and somehow, I thought the weekend would be the same. The moment I ran into the couple from the firm, we should have stopped.”
“You were tense the rest of the weekend, but I still don’t understand.”
He scrubbed his face. “I know. It was the elevator, Grace. When we were heading to our room and the drunk kid pressed the buttons. And it was the slowest fucking elevator every time the doors opened. You remember?”
“Yes. You held me.”
He stood and began to pace. “When the doors opened two floors from ours, someone was waiting for the elevator. It was Sabrina Wells. She saw me. She saw you. Your face was reflected in the mirror behind you. I was holding you. She saw us together.”
“That’s the lawyer you despise.”
“Yes. She has been trying to get me to sleep with her since I started with the firm. She’s a vindictive, selfish bitch. She saw us, lifted her phone, took a picture, and smiled. I’ve never seen a smile so malicious. I knew right then, we were done.”
I stared at him, shocked. He knew we were done?
“She called me on Sunday. That was the call you saw me on when I was angry. She insisted we meet that day. She threatened to go to the partners.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have figured something out. I know your position at the firm is important, but together—”
He cut me off. “I don’t give a shit about my position at the firm. She could have gone to the partners and told them, and if they let me go, I would have a job at the end of the day.”
“Then why?” I cried. “Why did you break us? Break me?”
He threw up his hands. “She was going after you, Grace. She despises me, and somehow, she knew I cared. She knew you were different. It infuriated her that I chose a law student over her, and she wanted to make me suffer. She was going to the partners to tell them what she saw. And to add a bunch of lies about you. She was going to slander you. End your career before it even began. She would have tainted your reputation so badly that it would have followed you, even to BAM.” He tugged a hand through his hair. “And when she told me what she was going to do, I tried to call her bluff. Told her that you meant nothing. I thought she’d buy it, but she didn’t. I hadn’t kept my feelings as well hidden as I thought. She said to keep her quiet, I had to break it off with you. I tried to figure out another way, but she had me in a corner.”