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)
“No way. Please never take off again.” A delivery comes in and interrupts us. “Catch up later?”
“For sure!” I head down the hallway, trying to hide my anxiousness.
Amy’s right. These have been the longest two days in history. Leaving my mom to care for my dad, I decided it’s time to return to work. The constant back-and-forth bickering about things like sodium intake was making me insane. My mom has a lot of work to convince him to change his bad habits because I swear he would put salt in his cereal if he could.
That last kiss from Theo has been on repeat since he walked away from me in the ER waiting room. What did it mean? It was nothing like the other times we kissed—not a hot, desperate ‘need to rip each other’s clothes off’ kind of kiss like in his office or the night of the benefit dinner. Instead, it was sweet. . . meaningful. And it confused the hell out of me. That wasn’t how you kiss someone you’re just having fun with. And is that what we’re doing?
I fought the urge to call and ask that very question. Because what if I’m wrong? He’s every woman’s fantasy, minus the asshole part. But he can have anyone he wants. I have a hard time convincing myself that person would be me. I know; the smallest violin is playing as we speak. I am nowhere near bombshell status. More like runner-up.
Speaking of a bombshell, am I doing something I shouldn’t be? I have morals. Maybe not after a ton of champagne, but I refuse to be the other woman. I already feel guilty about what happened, uncertain if he does indeed have a girlfriend. It’s one thing I need to clear up before we go any further. Do I even want this to go further?
I’ll admit it. A guy has never made me feel this way physically. Sex has always been just sex for me—fun and unremarkable. Is it pathetic that at twenty-three, I have never been in love? Or at least I don’t think I have. I’ve lusted after men. Had the whole butterflies-in-my-belly kind of feelings, but never earth-shattering, axis-tilting, life-changing love. Until. . . now.
Gah! There’s no way I feel that way.
Do I?
Crud. . .
I’m not blind to how different we are. Let’s be honest; the whole opposites attract thing is a total myth, right? There’s no chance he—we—us. . . “Okay, enough spiraling.” I need to flat out ask him. We’re mature adults. I can just come out with it. Do you have a girlfriend and what the ever-loving fuck are we doing? Yep, sounds perfect.
Since I know better than to bother him before his coffee, I complete that task, then knock on his door, and walk in. “Morning.” He’s on a call. Without interrupting, I set his cup down and leave.
“I’ll call you back. Fay?”
I turn back. “Yeah?”
“Shut the door and sit down.” Okay then. Maybe things haven’t changed between us. I guess it’s business as usual. I take the seat across from his desk. “How’s your father?”
“He’s fine. I spent the last two days making healthy meals for him that don’t sacrifice too much taste. The benefits of having a chef as a daughter.”
“We need to discuss us.”
His tone is so serious.
“Okay.” I cross my legs, my breath catching in my throat. He takes too long to speak, and I twist my fingers.
“I want you in my bed.”
Okay. Wow. That was not what I was expecting him to say. “Where now?”
“Do you need me to explain?”
Kind of. “Well, that can mean a lot of things.” I love the way his lips curl at the edges. The way his hands clench and unclench. And I find it extremely attractive that my response is causing him slight discomfort.
“It means I want you naked and under me. Or on top of me, if you prefer. But in my bed. As in, all mine, as often as we can. Is that something you want, Fay?”
Now, it’s me who’s squirming. I press my thighs together and lick my bottom lip, trying to buy myself some time. Inhaling slowly, I reply, “Sounds intriguing, but I need more details.” Oh Lord, the way his gaze drops to my mouth. It’s as if he’s undressing me with his eyes. There’s a good chance when I leave this chair, there will be a wet spot in my place.
“Is that so. . .?” He stands and rounds his desk. “You want to know exactly how I plan to have you bare for me? Your legs spread just for me. My tongue licking your sweet cunt until you’re shaking around me.” He leans back against his desk, and my knees brush against his thighs. “Do you want me to go on, or do you have an idea of what I mean?”