Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
I know I shouldn’t say it. Especially when she blushes and bites her cherry lip.
I wish like hell she was biting mine.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up. Sorry,” she whispers.
“Don’t be.”
“But—”
Enough of this bullshit.
Before I can slow down to think, I’m next to her, cupping her face.
She closes her eyes and sighs.
All hopes of resisting another bad decision fade with a rush of hot breath.
Do something drastic, woman.
Slap me. Bite me.
Give me one good reason why I’m so fucking radioactive.
Instead, her lips curve into a soft smile and she tilts her chin up. An open invitation.
I meet her mouth with a groan spilling out of me, pulling her arms around my chest.
We’re ravenous as I slam her against the closest wall, fumbling her legs around my waist. My hips crash against hers, pinning her down roughly as my mouth works, grinding her into willing submission.
Then I move us to the couch, settling her in my lap so I can kiss her thoroughly.
Her tongue traces my tongue, nice and slow and sweeter than molasses.
If these walls weren’t so thin, I think I’d already be jackhammering her on my desk.
Thank God for small favors.
Framing her face with my hand, I hold it still as I pull away. “Now tell me I’m not your type so we can stop this nonsense.”
“Gladly, you jackass.” She glares at me, all green-eyed fury.
“You like human donkeys. Noted.”
“No way!”
She slides off me but I grab her wrists, anchoring her next to me.
“And yet this keeps happening, liar,” I whisper, brushing my lips over hers again, refusing to melt into another kiss sure to turn my vision red.
She opens her mouth like she’s dying to say more, closes it, and opens it again. “Well, I’ve never kissed you first.”
I chuckle. “That’s your defense? I’m glad you’re not in Legal.”
“Better than yours. You’ve got the self-control of a kitten in a catnip field.”
“I never denied the attraction. I tried to do the adult thing and talk about it honestly,” I point out.
She shrinks back, batting her eyes at me.
“You call this talking? Also, don’t flatter yourself. You lied to me from the second we met about who you were.”
“Will you ever drop that?” I flare, anger mingling with the simmering lust.
“We’ll see. It’s a pretty big deal.”
“It’s not. I was simply trying to protect my reputation and Winthrope’s.”
“Yours, yeah. The company’s? Um, no. At dinner that night I gave you the perfect chance to come clean. You didn’t. You still lied,” she says, turning away from me.
“You can’t stay mad about that. You just want to so there’s one more reason to keep our distance. Tell me I’m wrong.” I’m growling again, this jagged edge in my voice.
She faces me again, her eyes heated. “Okay. So you might be a billionaire and about as friendly as a flaming cactus, but you do not tell me what I’m mad about, Winthrope.”
I stare at her.
“You’re still looking at my mouth.”
She jumps and inhales sharply. “Not anymore!”
“Nice while it lasted, huh? I prefer brunettes, historically, but you, Miss Sunshine, are a lethal blond exception.”
“Lethal?” she spits back.
Then she glares at me and kicks me square in the shin.
It’s so light I barely feel it.
“You’re too cute when you’re mad. I hate you,” I grind out.
“Oh, you have no idea what hate feels like, you shameless, overgrown—”
“Back to the important part.” I cut her off mid-insult. “I need you to stay tonight unless it’s truly life and death. Also, we’re going to Winthrope Chicago this weekend, so pack your bags.”
She turns pale.
“Tonight’s a stretch, but this weekend? Are you sure?”
What the hell is her deal?
She has no problem kissing me and chewing me out. Yet the second I mention a business trip away from home, it’s like I’ve handed down a prison sentence.
“I thought you enjoyed travel? What’s wrong with this weekend? You’re paid at the rate you are because nights and weekends may be necessary.”
She nods. “I understand that, it’s just—”
“Family issues again? The ones you won’t specify?” I’m annoyed and suspicious but I try not to sound bitter. “The company will pay for whatever you need, Miss Renee—babysitter, fruit basket, get-well-soon card. Whatever. I need you free to work, and I need you focused. If there’s anything you need to do your job better, the company will provide it.”
“Brock—Mr. Winthrope—you can’t help with this. Really,” she says harshly.
I raise a brow.
Somehow, she doesn’t know she’s talking to a man with near limitless resources and vast connections to corporate royalty.
I can help with damn near any normal problem imaginable, short of sending a rocket to the moon. And with a man who rhymes with tusk on speed dial, I can probably even manage that.
“Try me.”
“No, it’s—it’s nothing. It’s just a private family thing. Maybe 'problem' isn’t even the right word,” she says weakly.