Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Millie was standing at the window, and she spun around fast. “Oh!”
“Sorry,” I said, backing out of the room. “My mistake.”
“Zach, wait! Is everything okay?”
I exhaled. “I don’t know. This whole fucking weekend is insane. I feel like I’ve entered some kind of alternate reality.”
“I know. I feel it too.”
“I just had to get away for a minute—I didn’t realize this was your office.”
“I snuck away for a moment as well.” She saw my drink. “That looks good.”
“I can share.” I crossed to the window and offered her the glass. Our eyes locked as she lifted it to her lips and took a sip.
“Thanks,” she said, taking one more drink before handing it back to me.
She wore navy tonight, and although there was nothing overtly sexy about her outfit—the dress hit her at the knees, had a high neck and sleeves that came to her elbows—somehow it still hugged her curves in a way that made it hard for me to take my eyes off her. My mind started to wander into dangerous territory, imagining what she’d looked like last night as she straddled her vibrator, pretending it was me.
I started to get hard.
“I saw you taking photos with the family,” said Millie, breaking the silence. “That was nice.”
I swallowed more whiskey. “Could you tell how miserable I was?”
“No. You looked perfect. You look perfect.” Her cheeks grew pink as her eyes traveled over my clothing, face, hair.
“I should go,” I said, because I knew if we remained in here alone, things would happen we’d both regret.
“And I should get back to work.”
“Want the rest?” I held up what was left of my drink.
She hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure.” She took it from me and tipped it up, while I drank in her throat and neck and pale, pretty hands. I could smell her perfume.
When the whiskey was gone, she lowered the glass and stared into it. Then slowly, she raised her eyes to mine.
In half a second, our bodies and mouths slammed together, the glass shattering at our feet. Our tongues were hot and demanding, our arms clinging tight. I moved her away from the window and backed her up to the edge of her desk, dragging my lips down her throat and her dress up her thighs.
Her hands groped at my crotch, and she moaned when she found me already hard. I fumbled with my belt. She tugged off her underwear. In no time at all I was positioning my cock between her legs.
“Wait,” she said between loud, panting breaths. “Do you have a condom?”
“No. But I’ve had a vasectomy.”
“You’ve had a vasectomy?” Shock was evident in her voice.
“Yeah.” I spoke with my lips against her neck. “My ex-wife requested it.”
“You had a wife?”
“Briefly.” I picked up my head and looked her in the eye. “Do you want to talk about this now?”
She shook her head.
“Good.” I eased inside her, and we both groaned. Her legs wrapped around me, and she grabbed the back of my neck as I drove inside her hard and fast and deep. I fucked her with a passion bordering on fury, as if I was punishing her for my rapidly unraveling life, as if I was trying to prove I was still in control by ravaging her body.
Needless to say, it was over fast. I realized too late I wasn’t even sure she’d finished. Jesus, now I was that guy.
“I’m sorry, Millie.” I rested my forehead on hers, my heart still pounding.
“For what?” Her chest rose and fell quickly.
“The adolescent speed. Being so rough.”
“It’s fine.”
“Did you even . . .”
“This wasn’t about that,” she said quickly.
“This should always be about that.” I reached between us, placing my thumb on her clit. “Let me—”
“No.” She grabbed my wrist. “Really, Zach. It’s okay. Listen, there’s a roll of paper towels on the file cabinet in the corner. Could you maybe bring it to me? I don’t have any other clothes here, and—”
“Of course.” I carefully disengaged from her body as she tried to protect her clothing by sliding off the desk and keeping her dress at her hips. After I brought her the paper towel, I turned around to pull myself together and give her some privacy.
“There’s a mirror on the inside of that closet door,” she said.
“Thanks.” I went over to the closet, opened the door, and checked my reflection in the mirror. My suit looked okay, and my tie was still knotted, but my face was sweaty and flushed. Beneath my clothing, my back was hot and damp. I smoothed my hair where Millie’s fingers had tousled it.
She walked toward me, and I backed away from the mirror so she could use it.
I watched as she pulled out her ponytail and redid it, smoothed her dress over her curves, turned around and checked out her back by looking over her shoulder.