Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 91079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I shatter around him.
Pleasure consumes me in waves.
Over and over and over until I’m lying limp against him. I don’t have the strength to do anything. My limbs are flaccid and the only thing keeping me from falling is the hold he has on me.
He pulls out of me and gently lays me on my side on the couch. A blanket engulfs me in warmth. My shoes are removed from my feet.
His steps are silent as he walks away. Probably to get a warm cloth to clean me like all the good That Guys do. The lights go out. Or perhaps that’s what he was doing.
I anticipate the feel of his lips on my temple again kissing me goodnight. I shiver with the idea of him sliding beneath the blanket and pulling me into his arms. I fight my sleep just to wait for his return.
He never does.
Chapter Thirteen
“Penelope.”
The deep voice calling my name isn’t Emily’s. The big hand shaking my shoulder doesn’t belong to her either.
It’s all coming back to me.
Flaming dog shit.
Jail.
Jake.
Party.
Sex.
Mmm…sex.
“Penelope. Get up.”
I groan and pull the cover over my head. “Go away.”
Loud, dramatic exhale. “Cam, do something.”
Silence.
More silence.
I’m curious now.
I roll over and peak out from beneath the blanket to see Cam sitting on the ottoman less than two feet from me. He grins. “Good morning, princess. You look like hell.”
He looks like perfection in a suit. “It’s Sunday. Why are you dressed like that?”
“Because I’m at work.”
I look around the living room. “You work here?”
“I do.”
“In Jake’s house?”
“When I need to.” He holds up a steaming cup. “Coffee?”
“I prefer Mountain Dew in the afternoon.” I look out the window. It’s as gray as it was yesterday. “It is after noon, right?”
“It’s eight in the morning.”
I can’t keep the edge out of my voice. “Then why are you waking me up?”
“Because I was told to.”
“You work for Jake, don’t you?”
He tweaks my nose. “Nothing gets past you. Now, get up. Seriously.”
A wave of sadness washes over me. “Are you taking me home?”
“What is she still doing on the couch?” Jake’s thundering voice turns my head. He’s freshly showered, dressed in jeans and a sweater. He stomps over to us and takes a seat in the chair. Man, he looks good this morning. My thighs tingle at the reminder of how good he looked last night.
I glance at the window. At the exact spot where he sank to his knees. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his gaze follow mine. I’m looking at him when he turns back.
He smirks. “The things we do when we’re drunk.”
Ouch.
That probably wouldn’t sting so bad if it didn’t trigger the reminder of what else happened last night. What I’ve been trying all morning to forget. At the party, something sparked between us. He’d told me I was the most beautiful woman in Chicago. We shared that dance. He’d held my hand for the greater part of the evening.
Then we came home. And he fucked me like I’ve never been fucked. Kissed me where I’ve never been kissed. Said things to me that made me feel like I meant something to him. I’m not stupid or naive enough to think that he’d hopelessly fallen in love with me and last night was the start of our happily ever after. But I’d expected more from him than this—left on the couch, alone.
He treated me like a Miss Sims.
I feel like one too.
He slips his shoes on and stands. His towering position over me makes me feel small. The dismissiveness in his eyes makes me feel insignificant. And the pain in my chest worsens.
“I have a very important client coming over today. I need you to stay out of sight while he’s here. You can use the guest bedroom. Take a nap. A shower. I don’t care. But under no circumstances do you come to my office. Understood?”
I have nothing to say, so I simply nod.
“My assistant is working on travel arrangements for you. We should know something by the time my meeting is over.”
Why is he acting like this?
I’ve never been one to feel sorry for myself. This time is no different. So Jake Swagger wants to send me home. Today. And he hurt my feelings. It’s not the first time. And just like the first time, I bottle up those feelings. I can think about them later. Or never. Right now, I’m going to spend what little time I have left here focusing on my revenge—the one thing I know better than That Guy.
“Fine.”
I stand with the cover around me. It slips and nearly exposes my breast, but I catch it just in time. And I don’t miss the flash of possessive heat or the warning in Jake’s eyes as he plants himself in front of Cam’s line of sight.