Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I gasp, back arching as he rips into me. “Yes, fuck me, you asshole.”
He keeps going, and going, and I explode onto his shaft in a lightning storm of release and pleasure. It’s unreal and impossible and god, yes, it feels so good it’s like a stampede down my spine. I finish in a quivering mess and have to pull forward, sliding him out. The sensation is too much and every inch of skin is electric as pins and needles course down my legs and arms.
He kneels there staring at me, twitching and rock hard, stroking himself. He’s all muscle and power and intensity, watching with me with these burning dark eyes that want to swallow me whole.
And I know he’ll do it. If I let him, he’ll do exactly what he’s saying—devour me.
Destroy me.
Which is why he can’t ever know.
Because once he knows that I’m pregnant with his child, I’ll never be free.
He’ll never let me work on this film. He’s too protective, too controlling. If I want to have a shot at making this Cowan project come to life, I can’t let him find out.
It breaks my fucking heart.
But then he dips two fingers between my legs and brings them back up to his lips. Tasting me with a smile.
“Look at you,” he says softly. “Staring with me with those open lips. You think you’re done?”
“Baptist.”
“You’re not done.” He drags me by my hair back toward his cock and I swallow him deep into my throat. “You’re not close to done.” He fucks my mouth and I moan as I do it. “You’re nowhere near finished, Webb. The night’s not over yet.”
Chapter 10
Baptist
Cowan’s signature is a looping scrawl. When he’s done, he shoves the stack of papers back at me with a disgusted look. “There’s mothing worse than paperwork.”
I grin at him. Sometimes, I honestly can’t tell if this guy’s being serious. “Starvation? War? Genocide. That’s got to be worse. Genocide’s pretty bad.”
“Paperwork causes all that.” He jabs a finger down onto the pitted and scratched desk of the public library. We’re sitting in Philadelphia’s main branch back in a quiet corner with only the drone of the air conditioning humming through the ductwork to break up the silence. Blair’s quietly watching and hasn’t said much since the night before, and not that I can blame her.
Things are more than a little strained between us after that night of filthy debauchery. It’s hard to forget a thing like that happened.
“Explain how paperwork causes genocide.”
“Bureaucracy. Government obsession. Making people into numbers and figures. It all comes back to categorizing and otherizing, and paperwork’s at the heart of that particular nightmare. Read more Kafka, you buffoon.” Cowan leans back in his chair, studying us. Now I’m sure he doesn’t believe half the bullshit he spouts, but it’s fun to listen to him rant anyway. “The contracts are done. The lawyers are happy. You can drag me into court and make me cry in front of a judge if you so desire when I inevitably do something I’m not supposed to. That’s what you wanted, yes? Is it time to make the movie now?”
“That’s entirely up to you.” I cut him a check for the first amount agreed on in the contract and slide it over.
He takes it, folds it without looking, and shoves it into his pocket. I give that a fifty-fifty chance of actually getting cashed. Then again, it’s a lot of money. Cowan’s a lot of things, but he’s not stupid enough to leave cash on the table.
“And what do you think, suit? I noticed you’ve been quiet.”
Blair startles out of whatever she’s thinking about. Probably remembering when I came down her pretty throat and made her thank me for it after.
“I’m just watching your performance, Cowan.”
Cowan laughs. “Did you do what I asked?”
“I did.” Her eyes get serious. “And I don’t want to talk about it again.”
I frown, looking between them. I didn’t know they had a deal without me—and that sets me on edge. Cowan’s dangerous and I want to make sure he doesn’t put Blair in any more uncomfortable and potentially deadly situations. Knowing they’ve been talking behind my back doesn’t make me feel any better about having her in this deal.
But there’s nothing I can do. I brought her in for a reason, and just because I fucked her—twice now—doesn’t mean I can fire her.
Not that I’d want to.
I like having her around. She’s clever and organized and has good taste. She works hard and I’m pretty sure I’d never have gotten this far without her.
Cowan pretends like he feels nothing but disdain, but I think he secretly likes her.
But now on top of all that, I want her around for a lot more than her work ethic.
I want her for that look she gave me the night before when I was stroking myself and licking her juice from my fingers.