Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“Actually, I was heading to your office.” I recover, but barely. My eyes travel the length of his body, starting at his hair, which is longer on the top, shorter and graying on the sides, pulling off that salt-and-pepper vibe like nobody’s business. Dark eyes that get darker the more turned on he is, and yes, even though I might have been getting myself off to visions of him or he was kissing me senseless, that didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of Kingston. His chiseled jaw, with a light beard going all the way around his upper lip, the smattering gray showing there, too, which is sexy as hell. I know what’s beneath the clothes: broad shoulders, one tattooed arm, some of it I know has meaning by the look alone, the others maybe not. His upper back has a few tattoos, too, and when he was shirtless around the pool, it was hard to keep from drooling over his tapered waist, an ass that’s rock freaking solid, and thick muscular legs that show he did not, in fact, miss leg day.
“Good, you ready?” King questions. I must give him a look of misunderstanding because I thought we were hanging at the office after hours. “As much as I’d like to take you on my desk, it’s not going to happen while other people can hear you. That’s for me and me only. I want you screaming my name with wild abandon. Gagging you isn’t something I’m into.” My core clenches, aching to feel what it’d be like for King to finally take me, but I also want him to know that there’s more than what meets the eye.
“Kingston.” I can’t help the weakness in my voice or the way I’m probably looking at him, eyes upward, yearning for what he’s offering. “I think we should talk first.” He doesn’t pull away; instead, he digests those six words, mulling them over, staying stone cold sober in a way I can only describe as Kingston Thomas.
“We’ll be talking. I can see the questioning in your eyes, and the apprehension.” I breathe a sigh of relief. I was worried that what he wanted was a good time and nothing else. The age difference between us is significant—eighteen years, to be exact. That would bother some people. Not me, and clearly not Kingston. Our hurdles will consist less of today’s society and their standards because honestly, who gives a flying fuck about the age. As long as they aren’t minors and it’s consensual. Nope, after this talk, figuring out where we both stand, which I hope is on the same side of the fence, we’ll tackle the hard part: his daughter, my best friend, Mae, and then my parents.
“Well, it seems you’ve added mind reader to your repertoire of knowledge.” My hand goes to his chest, feeling the ripple of muscle as I do. After looking both ways to make sure we’re in the clear of other employees, King dips his head towards mine.
“I know a lot of things about you, Tessa. I know you have a love for anything sweet you can get your hands on, you prefer red wine to white wine, I know that you’re a damn hard worker, I know what you taste like after you’ve come, and as soon as we make it back to my place, I’m going to make it known that you are very much mine.” Our lips lock; there’s no other way to describe the clench we’re in. It’s as if we’re two teenagers having a hot and heavy make-out session, attempting to not get caught but still so lost in the moment that even if we did, the consequences couldn’t rip us apart. King’s hands grip my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies are fused together much like our mouths are. He’s dominating the entire moment, while I relish in it, feeling his length against my stomach and knowing I’m the one who’s making him lose control in an open hallway that anyone could walk down, yet he doesn’t care. He’s is as lost to this kiss as I am, his actions giving me more hope than any words ever could, still thankful that this isn’t one-sided.
“You go to my head faster than any liquor could. Now, you ready to follow me to my place?” He recovers much easier and faster than I could ever imagine. Instead of giving him words, I nod. I’m still trying to pull my thoughts together, deciding if I should call or text my parents that I’ll be late. Yes, I technically have my own place; that doesn’t mean I’ve lost all respect for them, even if I haven’t had to inform them of my comings or goings in the past three years. My home away from home being on their property means that I should at least give them a heads-up that I’ll be late getting in. Kingston’s hand goes to my lower back as he guides me out of the office. Most who give us a glancing pass probably think nothing of it. If they look closer, though, what they’d actually see is his long dexterous fingers shifting my shirt out of his way to feel my skin. This is definitely going to be impossible to keep quiet in the office building.