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)
Fuming, I scan her body and the way that black dress hugs it.
“You’re still wearing what I pick tomorrow. If you show up to dinner in that thing, I will turn it into confetti in ten minutes flat,” I vow, holding up a fist to my chest.
Her breath hitches and she smiles like the little tornado she is.
So cute, innocent, whip-smart, and yet somehow perfectly capable of blowing my entire world to the stars. Her soft laughter draws my arms back around her like a magnet.
She kisses my chin, my cheek.
I turn her to face me again, because I want—no, I need—her mouth one more time.
So I press my lips to hers, stealing her breath, twining her tongue.
When her phone goes off, I add my teeth.
“Ignore it,” I order, following her movement to steal another kiss.
“I can’t. That’s my sister.” She pulls away from me, fishing her phone out of the black bag hanging over her shoulder. “Ugh. You made me miss the call.”
“The cost of those forbidden kisses. We’re right back at the family problems you won’t explain.” The thing you can’t trust me with, I mean.
Without a word, she flees through the door to the elevator with her phone pressed to her face.
Fucking hell.
Even the world’s most torrid kisses can’t break through to her.
I’d do well to remember that tomorrow night and keep it casual, no matter what happens.
There’s clearly something she doesn’t want me knowing about her life, and trust is a scarce fucking commodity.
It’s also a good reminder why I’ve managed to avoid getting mixed up with anyone—until now—if we’re mixed up in anything besides a flash in the pan mistake.
Walking into the bathroom, I throw my clothes on the ground and take a cold shower before I turn in early, ignoring the biting need to jerk off to her for the tenth time this week.
If only my discipline extended to my dreams.
I know it’s a fucking fantasy the second it starts, and I still don’t care.
We’re naked in my bed, her nipples as rosy as her mouth and aching for my touch.
She squirms as I pin her down, ravishing her neck and shoulders. I splay a hand over her bare breasts. She sucks in a deep breath and exhales like mad.
“If you don’t stop now, you will have to make love to me,” she whispers.
I pull her closer. “Is that supposed to be a threat? There’s only one thing in the world I’d rather do.”
“What’s that?”
Growling, I tilt her face and bring her mouth to mine.
I kiss her long and slow before I push inside her, claiming her with a groan, this voice in my pulse drumming the fact that she’s not the only one being claimed.
I don’t want to think about what that means.
Just before I move my hips, pulling a rough orgasm out of her, the violins from hell erupt in my ear.
I lurch up in a cold sweat, without bothering to swipe my alarm. I throw my phone against the wall instead.
“She doesn’t trust you, you donkey,” I mutter. “Whatever you do, don’t let your dick do the thinking.”
13
Going Caveman (Piper)
“Pippa, hold up. Is this a date? You have to tell me everything!” Jenn squeals before catching herself. “Sorry.”
Winthrope Chicago has a popular brunch. We’re nowhere near the only people in the room. I scan the light crowd to see if anyone heard us.
“You’re blowing this whole secret agent thing.”
She winces. “But tell me.”
“He said it isn’t a date. Not technically.”
She laughs. “Yeah, right! I saw the way he was looking at you last night. Pippa, those were textbook bedroom eyes. I had to dash away so you guys could get a room. Literally. I figured I’d see you again with sex hair or in handcuffs.”
“Handcuffs?” I snort at her.
“Yeah. After you killed him. You were doing a pretty good job of laying into him and that only ends one way.” She smiles as I look at her. “Sexy time or murder.”
“What is wrong with your brain?” I stuff a bite of my omelet in my mouth while she giggles. “I don’t know where this is going—probably nowhere good—so don’t get too excited. He really is bad for me. He said he’d send me a dress, but I told him not to. I probably won’t even wear it.”
“Ohhh. That’s so Pretty Woman. I like it!”
“Can we not compare my life to movies older than we are?”
“Yet you still get it,” she points out.
I snicker. “I doubt he does it. I told him no way. Of course, he sucks at listening.”
“I can’t wait to see what he sends,” she muses.
“I’d be more excited if we didn’t have this review thing hanging over us. Or at least if he’d cut us in on his theories now that he has some hard proof,” I say.
Jennifer sips her coffee before she says, “He probably thinks it’s an inside job or something. A disgruntled employee with some mad skills for sticking it to the man. Maybe even a former chief exec. He must have enemies. The boss is an ass in a top hat.”