Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Is he serious? I look around for back up, but everyone is enjoying themselves. You know what? Screw this. I’m in the middle of manifesting a new job and can feel it about to happen. I don’t need to deal with his mood swings. It’s time we had it out, and I do what I’ve wanted to do since I walked through those doors.
Quit.
I finish my wine in one impressive gulp and leave the glass on the bar. Stomping my heels, I walk to the elevator and stand next to him. Not a word is spoken the entire way down. When the doors open, he storms out, leaving me to follow him.
“Shut the door.” He walks over to his mini bar and pours a glass of bourbon. I twist around and slam it closed.
“Let’s get this over with. Like I said, I have somewhere to be.”
He faces me, the deep scowl on his face stealing my breath. If looks could kill. His brow furrows, and his jaw is tense. He’s angry. Conflicted? Smoldering hot. I regret not wearing a bra because it gives away how turned-on I am. I swallow down my inappropriate arousal and clear my throat.
He takes a slow step toward me. “Who are you wearing that dress for?”
“How many times are we going to do this? It’s none of your damn business.”
He walks closer, eliminating the remaining space between us, forcing me to raise my chin. I hold his searing gaze. He’s so powerful, taking up all the space in any room he’s in. I can’t help but inhale his signature cologne and bask in the scent. My eyes fall to his tightened jaw, then his glass, where his grip is tight enough to shatter the crystal. “I’m going to ask you one more time.Who the fuck are you wearing this for? Is it who you were with last night?”
“Fuck you.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
My thighs squeeze together, and I hate it. His eyes fall to my lips, and the earth shifts. “You’re an ass.”
“Watch the way you speak to me.”
Oh! He has some nerve. “The way I talk to you? How about the other way around? You haven’t said a nice thing to me since I started here! You talk down to me like I’m a child. No wonder no one sticks around. You’re a miserable, arrogant asshole!”
His glass slams against the top of his desk, and I suck in a quick breath just before he captures the back of my neck, slamming his lips to mine. There’s no time for shock to settle in. I find myself pressed up against his chest as he demands access. He tastes like bourbon and sin. I’ve hated and lusted after him since my first day, and now, in his arms, kissing him, feels like a dream—or a nightmare.
Without thought, my hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck while his lower to my ass, lifting me. I’m sprawled over his large mahogany desk within seconds, knocking off papers and his fancy crystal clock.
His fingers dig into my skin, and I release a soft moan. Tugging me closer, he hikes up my dress and reclaims my lips. My legs lock around his waist, needing more. Of what, I have no idea. Are we actually doing this? Am I doing this? Five seconds ago, I hated this man. Now, I’m letting him run his hands up my thighs to a very intimate—
“Oh my. . .” a faint gasp falls off my tongue. He captures the thin strap of my thong and tears it completely off me, tossing it to the floor. Spreading my legs, he glides a single knuckle down the inside of my thigh and works his way back up.
The closer his fingers get to my sex, the more lost I am to what’s happening. My heart bangs against my chest. Inching up even more, a fingertip rubs over my folds and slides between them. He gathers my slickness, working it around until one thick, glorious finger breaches my entrance. My mouth falls open. He draws back, then thrusts inside. I gasp, and his tongue delves into my mouth, swallowing another moan. My thighs quiver around him. Again, he pulls out and eases back in with more force, granting me a second finger. He increases his pace, stroking me over and over. My heart thrashes. It’s too much. Not enough. I raise my hips, trying to get closer, meeting each thrust, but his grip only tightens to the point I know he’ll leave bruises. He holds me still, forcing me to take what he’s giving.
Pleasure ripples down my spine, and my toes curl. With every stroke, I hurl closer and closer to the edge. He thrusts hard, pressing deep into my sex, and I crumble around him. My nails dig into the back of his neck as my body spasms. “Theo,” I moan his name, and his intercom beeps.