Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I can’t stop or I’m going to yell at him all over again. Or do something else I will later regret. But there is no escape from this moment with this man. Suddenly, his hand is on my arm, and he pulls me around and way too close to him. “What are you doing?” I demand, but he doesn’t listen. He just keeps on moving and so do I, thanks to his hand that is somehow holding mine.
The next thing I know, we’re inside an old office building that I didn’t even know was open. Tyler maneuvers us outside of prying eyes, away from a window and behind a wide post, with him standing in front of me. His hand is on the wall by my head, but he’s not touching me. I want him to touch me. I want him to leave me alone.
He’s just so big and close and suffocatingly male, and my body betrays me, heat flushing my skin. His touch that was here and gone, his closeness that is here and now, is too much. There’s a sense of intimacy to this moment in time that triggers memories of us touching each other, sharing time with each other, wanting each other.
And so far, he’s said nothing. He’s just staring at me, and I can’t take it.
“What are we doing, Tyler?” I ask softly, and I wonder if he can hear the beat of my heart thundering in my chest.
“That contract was to protect you, Bella.”
“We’re on repeat, Tyler. You say that. I say this. That contract was a business transaction.”
“That’s not what we are, but that is what the will my father left behind is. There is no normal way for us to figure this thing between us out. You’re angry at me for something I can’t control. The company, jobs, and lives are dependent on what I do next. I’m obligated—”
“I know,” I state tightly, and in that moment, I do know. I’m angry at something he can’t control and that’s not fair. He’s trapped, but so am I. “I know,” I repeat. “It’s an impossible situation.” I hug myself and add, “I hate how this is happening.”
His eyes narrow. “Is this where you tell me to pick someone else again?”
“If I say anything else, where does that lead us? Where does it lead me, you, or the company?”
“It leads to a better place than now.”
“It’s your company, Tyler. You score. I’m the whore.”
“Damn it, stop saying that shit. I didn’t make you my whore.”
“Do you really think that’s not what everyone else is going to say?”
“Fuck everyone else.”
He pushes off the wall and gives me his back, and my heart jackknifes when I think he might leave. I’m such a mess. I want him to stay. I want him to go. But he doesn’t go. Instead, he stands there with his back to me, hands on his hips, chin tilted up. He rotates to face me, and his eyes are not stone and ice, as he shows the world, but rather layers and layers of torment, “I say I’m not like my father and yet I stand here, asking you to risk everything for me. I have to do this because it’s what protects the company and all of the employees, but you don’t. I just want you to. And if you give me the chance, you need to know that I’ll convince you that’s exactly what you should do. Yes, that’s a warning. It’s the only one I have in me.”
“Why, Tyler? Why do you want it to be me?”
I don’t know what I want him to say to me right now. Just something. Something that makes this risk feel like more than a contract. Yes. That’s what I want to hear. What I need to hear because I’m so on the edge of committing career suicide for this man.
“Damn it, woman,” he bites out, and then he’s in front of me again, and I know I should move, push him back, anything to keep him from touching me. Because I can’t think when he touches me. But I don’t, I can’t. And now it’s too late. He cups my face and tilts my gaze to his. “My father was a selfish man. Maybe I’m more like him than I want to admit, but the answer is just plain, I want you. Only you, Bella. It has to be you.”
It has to be me.
Those words could mean so many things. For instance, I have money, and don’t want his. I’m safe. But that idea feels pretty bad, actually. They are not the reasons I want him to want me. I ask again, “Why?”
“I trust you. I want you. I’m obsessed with you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I like you. There are people who love each other but don’t like each other. I don’t want to hurt you, but I also don’t believe anyone will believe you slept your way to the top. Not with your track record. But maybe that’s me being selfish. It’s hard not to be selfish with you, Bella. I just can’t help myself.”