Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Yeah? Then what were you saying?”
“I don’t like the idea of your hands on him while you’re locked behind a closed door.”
“Too bad,” I mutter as I pick up my scarf and wrap it around my throat with an angry jerk.
“Where are you going?” he asks, looking panicked when he sees me slip on my coat.
“I’m leaving. Enjoy the pizza—it’s the best in New York City.” I stand and start to walk away, but he takes my hand, forcing me to stop and look at him.
“You’re running again.”
“Call it whatever you like.” I tug my hand free and head for the door.
Out on the sidewalk, I rush as quickly as I can toward my block. I feel him hot on my heels as I go. As soon as I make it up to my apartment, I hear him enter the foyer behind me and follow me up the steps.
“Stop!” he pleads as I put my key in the door.
Everything in me fights the urge to listen to him.
“Please!” His body presses into my back, his hand slides around my waist, and his lips touch my neck as he speaks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you who you could or could not have as clients.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“Can you please look at me?” he asks.
I shudder as I slowly turn around to face him, wondering vaguely if Miss Ina is downstairs listening to this conversation take place. I have no doubt that, if she is, I’ll get an earful tomorrow.
“This is new to me.” He takes my face between his hands. “I’ve never felt the way you make me feel. You make me crazy. The idea of someone else touching you—or you touching them—makes me see red.”
“Do you know how insane that is?” I ask while asking myself how insane I am for enjoying his reaction.
“I do.” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry.”
“You can’t tell me what to do, Wesley. And you can never tell me how I should do my job, or who I can have as clients or friends. That is a deal breaker for me. I like you, and for some insane reason I like that you feel as jealous as you do about me, but that can never spill over into my work life or erode the friendships I’ve had for years.”
“I know,” he agrees, placing one hand on the door above my head and the other on my hip while dipping his face close to mine.
I swallow, then lower my eyes so I won’t have to look at him when I say what I’m about to. “I think we should just slow this down a little,” I whisper, peeking up at him through my lashes. “This thing between us has been very intense from the beginning. M-maybe we need to take a step back,” I say, hating the very idea of doing that.
“Do you want that?” he asks. I try to force myself to say yes or to nod, but I can’t do it.
Pulling my body deeper into his, he lowers his face until we are eye to eye. “Do you really want us to take a step back?”
No! my mind screams as he trails hot kisses across my cheek and toward my ear.
“Invite me in so I can remind you of why you want this,” he murmurs.
My eyes slide closed.
When he pulls my hips into his and I feel his arousal between us, I whimper, “I can’t. My sister’s home, and I . . . I don’t want her to find out about us.”
“You don’t want her to find out about us?” He steps back suddenly, like I burned him.
I realize what I said and how it sounded. Looking into his eyes and seeing the hurt there, I reach out to touch him. He backs up a step.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t . . .” My apology dies in my throat when he turns and starts down the steps, taking them two at a time. “Please stop!” I shout at his back, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even turn around as I try to catch up with him. “Wesley!” I stumble to a stop at the bottom of the steps and watch him disappear out the front door.
“Let him go, child.”
I turn my head to find Miss Ina standing in her open doorway. “He’ll calm down, and then you’ll be able to talk to him,” she says gently as her frail fingers wrap around mine and tears fill my eyes. “Men get like that from time to time. It’s best you let them work through their anger.”
“I messed up,” I whisper.
Her fingers tighten. “It will be okay. Come have a cup of tea.”
Wiping at the tears that are running down my cheeks, I shake my head. “Miss Ina, now’s not a good time.”