Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
“He told her to sleep with me because he wanted her to persuade me into certain deals.”
“That is …” Horrible. Worse than horrible. Devastating. It would make it hard to continue trusting people in business after that. Almost impossible. No wonder Adrian rearranges companies to such an extent. He doesn’t truly trust anyone to be what they say they are.
“We were together for nearly six months before I realized.”
“I’m sorry.” I set the tumbler into my lap, both hands cradled around it. His focus is on his plate. His fork twirls the pasta around but he doesn’t eat.
His eyes find mine and he offers me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes when he says, “Maybe it’s not polite dinner conversation.”
“It’s fine. I want to know more about you.”
He gestures at the food on the coffee table. “You must be hungry,” he says, and I know this part of the conversation is over.
My appetite has vanished, though, apart from small bites, which are delicious. We eat in relative silence. I’m sick on his behalf, and on mine. I never thought Adrian Bradford and I would have something like this in common—such complete betrayal by an ex. I guess betrayal doesn’t care if you’re rich. It can find you anywhere.
“What do you think?” he questions.
“About what?”
He huffs a small laugh, taking another bite before glancing at my half-eaten plate.
“Oh, it’s delicious. I—You were right. It’s delicious.”
He’s barely touched his plate as well. “I’m not as hungry for dinner as I thought I’d be.”
“Me either.”
A moment passes as he leans back, the sofa groaning under his weight. The plates stay where they are on the table, the empty tumblers of whiskey next to them.
“I’ll never do that to you,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting to my lips.
I turn onto my side, lifting my knees up and letting my heels fall to the floor so I can rest my legs on the edge of the sofa. “I won’t either. Cheating and lying are—”
“For assholes who can live with their misery,” he says, finishing the statement for me.
I rest my cheek on the back of the sofa, and my hand slips into his. “Yeah.”
As if he senses my thoughts, he says, “I want to get lost in you.”
I don’t have a chance to respond, only to part my lips as he crashes against them.
As soon as he touches me it’s like we’re back in the office, frantic for each other. He strips off my clothes with brutal efficiency and does the same to his own. A gasp leaves me as he lifts me, forcing my legs to wrap around his hips.
I think he might take the floor, but instead he takes me to the windows looking out over the city. He’s still fully clothed, save for the top buttons undone from my efforts a moment ago.
My stomach drops at the height of the building but Adrian murmurs in my ear, “You’re safe here, safe from everything except being my fuck toy. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”
I wonder if they can see me. There’s no other building this tall, but it would only take someone craning their neck to see me bared to the powerful man behind me.
My answer is a moan. He puts both my hands on the cool glass. “Keep your hands up,” he commands me. “And spread your legs.” My breasts press against the glass as my hips are pulled against his crotch. His erection pushes against my ass.
His hand dips down between my thighs and teases up until he’s stroking my clit, alternating it with pushing his fingers inside me until I whimper for more. Then he focuses relentlessly on my clit until I come on his fingers with a cry, shaking against the windowpane. My legs nearly give out and I cling to Adrian as best I can, holding on to him to keep my balance. His lips trail down my neck as he toys with me, bringing me closer and hotter to yet another release. It’s hot and my pulse races, for the sheer force of my orgasm and from the view. The chill of the glass is at odds with how my body hums. He plays me like he knows every inch of me, and I fucking love it. I love what he does to me.
He tells me, “I think I’ll fuck you here.” His fingers slip lower, to a place I’ve only experimented with once. My eyes widen slowly and my lips part in an O. “Have you had anal before?”
I swallow thickly before answering, “Not in a long while.”
“Did you enjoy it?” he questions and I rest my head back, staring down at the city. “It was … different. We didn’t get far,” I admit. A college fling once tried … we were drunk and lube was scarce. “It was a no go for lack of … preparation.”