Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
The song has long since been changed and the light has turned green. This time, the silence inside the car is thick and heavy. I can sense him brooding about what just happened. Sickness roils in my belly.
“You can talk to me, you know,” he says gruffly. “That’s what friends do.”
Not about this.
I can’t ever talk to anyone about this.
“Maybe one day,” I lie as I twist my fingers in my lap.
He reaches over and covers my hands with his much larger one. His pinky innocently grazes against my clit through my yoga pants, causing me to jolt. I sneak a glance at him. His jaw clenches as he maneuvers the road with ease, his attention ahead of him. My nipples harden, and I know my panties are now damp.
What is wrong with me?
I’m a pervert.
He’s trying to comfort me, and all I can focus on is how his pinky rests against the seam of my sex. My breathing is heavy. I try desperately to calm it. His thumb rubs over the back of my hand in a comforting manner. I wish it were his other finger, though, doing all the moving.
“I need help picking out a chair,” he tells me as we pull into the mall parking lot. “They have one of those ergonomic office stores here. Ever been?”
I shake my head because I can’t manage words with his finger on my pussy. He gives my hands a squeeze which makes a thrill shoot straight to my core from where his finger innocently rubs against me again.
“There’s a spot,” I choke out, pointing to an empty parking space. I jerk my other hand out from under his and run my fingers through my hair. Instead of pulling his hand away, he settles it back on my thigh. That naughty pinky of his seems to fit right up against me as if it belongs there.
He pulls into the spot and tugs his hand away to put the car into park. I let out a long breath I’d been holding. His full lips curl into a lopsided grin when he regards me. My entire body buzzes with electricity that seems to be linked to him.
“Ready?”
I bolt from the car and stalk toward the mall. Soon, he catches up to me and places his palm on my lower back. The rain has stopped, but it looks like the bad weather will continue throughout the day.
“Your ass looks nice in those pants, little quitter,” he says with a grin.
I huff and glare at him. “Boss. Boundaries.”
He snorts and gives my ass a swat. “Friends get to say these things.”
I’m pretty sure friends aren’t this touchy-feely, but what do I know. What I do know is that it is fucking with my head. Gray is too hot for him to be playfully touching me all the time. One of these days he’s going to get me so worked up that I pounce on him.
We spend the next hour trying out office chairs. He says he needs a new one and insists I try them all out to tell him which is the most comfortable. When I sit a little longer than necessary in one of them and close my eyes, he snaps his fingers.
“I want this one,” he tells a salesclerk.
I turn my attention to see him watching me with his muscular arms folded over his solid chest. He looks good today. No surprise there. He looks good every day. But now that his focus is on me, he seems especially handsome. His eyes seem to never leave mine. The way his gaze follows me everywhere reminds me of Vaughn. But with Vaughn, I’d always felt like a mouse caught in a trap—and he was the cat about to eat me.
Gray stares at me as if he’s trying to memorize every freckle and expression.
He watches me with a hunger that promises so much more than friendship.
“Stay there,” he tells me. “I’m going to go pay for this.”
When he disappears, I let my mind wander. I remember shopping with Vaughn early on in our relationship. Back when he’d only started becoming possessive. At the time, I thought it was sexy.
“Try this one on,” he says with a wolfish grin. He holds up a skimpy dress fit for going to a club.
I frown because he’d promised he’d take me to buy more jeans. After growing up in a household where my mom scrimped and saved so we’d scrape by okay, it is nice having a boyfriend with money and who wanted to splurge on you. Problem is, I don’t ever feel right to ask him for what I need. I just let him buy what he wants.
And today, he wants a red dress two sizes too small.
He flashes me a smoldering grin that has me tugging the fabric from his fingers. I walk to the dressing room with a frown playing at my lips. Sometimes Vaughn is everything I ever wanted in a boyfriend.