Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
It takes me a few seconds to move. He’s good at breathing down my neck, dissolving my panties, and turning my resolve into mush. Retrieving the twenty he slipped into my back pocket, I risk a glance back, but he’s gone. Men like Eric should come with a warning because he’s relentlessly … everything.
Relentlessly sexy.
Relentlessly intriguing.
Relentlessly opinionated.
“Welcome. Let me know if I can help you with anything.” A young blonde with hair a little darker than mine smiles as I slip into Eric’s T-shirt shop with our coffees.
“I’m here to see Eric.”
“Oh! You must be Anna. He’s in his office, and it’s right back there beyond the restroom.”
He told his employee about me. I wonder what he said.
“Thanks.” I smile hesitantly before toting the two cups of coffee toward his office.
“Good morning. Shut the door.” Eric leans back in his chair and props his feet up on the desk—red tennis shoes with white laces. From their pristine appearance, I’d say today is the first day he’s worn them. They go well with his white shirt with red lettering: I don’t bite … usually.
“Black coffee.” I shut the door, hand him his coffee, and dig out his change from the pocket of my gray skort.
“You can keep the change.” He smirks right before taking a sip of his coffee.
“I’m good.” I lay it on the desk and step back, but he snakes his hand around my bare leg, halting my retreat. “You’re an awful man. The worst. I can’t believe you called me out in front of Peter.”
“Did you sleep well?” One hand inches up my leg while he casually sips coffee with his other.
I swallow hard when his fingers graze the bottom of my ass, and his thumb stops at the apex of my legs. “Don’t ignore me,” I squeak, sounding more turned on than mad. But I’m not.
Okay, I am.
But fuck it. I’m mad too!
He shrugs. “I got more sleep than I planned on getting.” Again, he sips his coffee like his other hand isn’t planted in my personal space, like I’m not pissed off about the Peter incident.
I give up. “Oh yeah?” I attempt to mirror his casualness, but I’m standing next to him, not reclined in a chair, so it’s a little trickier for me to come across as relaxed. “Well, things don’t always go as planned.”
“Mmm … yeah. Well, I had plans to do things to a certain someone.” His tongue slides along his bottom lip while his thumb teases the crotch of my skort.
“I have work.” I take a cautious sip of my coffee, attempting to mask the slight strain in my voice.
Step back!
“I think this is a bad idea,” I say.
Step back!
I have no willpower. What is wrong with me?
“Coffee is never a bad idea.” His thumb moves to the same part of my body I felt sure he couldn’t find last night—until he did find it, manipulated it, and destroyed me in the process.
Here I am … refusing to step away because I welcome his destruction.
“We live in the same building. As a rule, I try to avoid setting up awkward situations with people I see on the regular. Like co-workers and neighbors.”
“Awkward situations?”
I sip my coffee, nod as he sits up (hand still on my leg like it’s stuck), and sets his cup on the desk. Then he places my coffee next to his before his other hand claims a matching position on my other thigh, pulling me between his spread legs.
“It’s uh…” my fingers do their own thing, deeming it necessary to mess with his slightly damp hair “…bad news when things end, and we have to pretend they never happened, which is impossible to do. I have to watch you parade women in and out of your apartment, and you have to witness me coming home early in the morning, which means you’ll know I spent the night at someone’s place.”
Pressing his lips together, gaze locked to mine, he nods slowly. “So you do stay the night … just not at my place.”
I roll my eyes. “I live in the building.”
“Sorry … did I not hear you say goodbye? Did I miss the note you left on the nightstand? We haven’t shared phone numbers, so you didn’t text me. You skittered out of my place in record time. Were you even fully dressed when you left?”
“Pfft … of course I was dressed.”
His gaze washes over my face, pausing on my cheeks. “Liar. You blush when you’re turned on, and you blush when you lie. So either you’re turned on or lying?”
Both.
I don’t want to admit to either one.
“I didn’t want to deal with what came next.”
“Next, I planned on letting you read to me while my tongue explored …”
I jump when his thumb shows me where he planned to let his tongue explore. A nervous laugh vibrates my chest. His hands slide down a few inches, and he lifts one leg, then the other, to straddle his lap.