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)
After I send an email to Dusty with what little info I have, I check on an Amazon order I placed this weekend while I was chilling under Violet’s bed. I have a surprise coming in today that I paid expedited shipping for.
Now that she’s practically mine, I want to shower her with everything. Love. Attention. Gifts. Cum.
People start filing in. Normally I don’t notice them but today I have my door open. I’m waiting for her. It’s been just an hour since I’ve last seen her, and I’m going nuts. This weekend she was semi-casual and I’m dying to see her in some sexy office attire. Goddamn, I need this woman.
My ears perk up when I hear the name Truman outside my door. A douchebag-looking motherfucker stops to talk to Clint from HR. They chuckle and discuss last night’s game. When a woman walks by, Truman’s narrowed gaze follows her ass.
Rage bubbles up inside me.
Violet was right. This place is crawling with sexist pigs. Because of me. Had I laid down the law in the beginning, these assholes would know how to act. But since they know they can get away with this shit—because human resources clearly doesn’t have a fucking issue—they continue to abuse the situation and my female staff.
They abuse my Violet.
I stand from my chair and fist my hands.
Bull is going to gather the men and we’ll have a big fucking meeting later this afternoon. Until then, I need to let Truman feel my fury. I stalk out into the hallway. His gaze turns from leering to friendly as he regards me.
“Mr. Maxwell,” he greets with a grin.
Clint turns and stares at me, shock in his eyes. “Sir.”
I tilt my head to the side and size up Truman. Clint is a pussy because he murmurs that he has work to do and retreats. Truman, the dumbass, opens his mouth like we’re fucking chums.
We. Are. Not. Fucking. Chums.
“I need coffee,” I clip out, my voice short but calm.
He frowns at me in confusion. “What?”
“I need coffee,” I repeat, stepping into his personal space. “I need coffee now.”
His stupid beady eyes dart over to Violet’s empty desk. Before he can open his mouth and say something stupid, I growl startling him.
“I need you to make my coffee. You, Truman.”
A flash of anger flickers in his eyes. “Don’t we have people for that?”
“Two scoops of sugar. One scoop of creamer,” I seethe, my chest bumping against his. “And don’t forget a dash of cinnamon.”
His jaw clenches as his eyes challenge me. I fucking dare him to challenge me. Finally, he bites back his reply. “You got it, boss.”
He storms into the kitchen and starts slamming shit around. A smile tugs at my lips but it turns full blown when I hear the clack of heels. I jerk my gaze to see my gorgeous, confident woman striding into the office. Her long, brown hair is like pure silk hanging in front of her perky breasts. She’s paid a lot of attention to her makeup today because it’s perfect—like she’s headed for a photo shoot at a magazine, not work. My gaze roams down her sexy little body. Today, she wears a white button-up blouse that hugs her round tits and is tucked into a slate grey pencil skirt that seems a tad shorter than the one she wore Friday. I drag my eyes along her long legs to a pair of snakeskin stilettos in the same shade as her skirt. When I finally find her eyes again, she’s smiling.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful.
“Did you need something?” she asks with an arched dark eyebrow. “Coffee perhaps?” The challenge in her voice gets my dick hard.
“You don’t make coffee anymore,” I growl as I prowl toward her. Panic briefly crosses her features, almost as if she fears she’s in trouble. She’s in trouble for not giving me her pretty pussy last night. But I’ll punish her later with my tongue. As far as this job goes, she’s doing much more than I ever realized. I quickly analyzed the data she collected on the Collins property, and it helped me with some decisions that needed making. Violet is smart—too smart to be making coffee and answering the phone. And as if a light bulb goes off in my head, I know what I’ll do. Later. It is the answer to a lot of my problems.
“Gray,” she murmurs when I near. Her brown eyes do their own little field trip down my body. I’d worn one of my expensive suits to impress her. It fits well and shows off my build. I need to drive her just as fucking crazy as she drives me.
“You look good, little quitter,” I say with a lopsided grin.
She laughs and waves me off as she starts for her desk. “Back at ya, Gray.”