Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I may not know if I actually wanted him to be mine, but I thought I knew exactly how Dean felt. I guessed he wanted nothing to do with being tied down. At best, he might want to act on the sexual tension he teased me about. But that sex would only be an act to help get me off his mind. In other words, he’d fuck me to forget me. Maybe that should’ve been flattering on some physical level, but it only made me feel empty.
Wasn’t that just like all the guys who came before? They only took what they wanted from me, then moved on. Dean was no different. I needed to remember that.
I sighed and followed the crowd out of the room, dreading dinner with him more than ever.
17
PEARL
I debated going back to the room to change before dinner, but decided there were two very good reasons not to. One was the possibility that I might run into Dean when I went to our room. After all the thoughts swirling in my head from listening to him talk in front of the staff, I didn’t fully trust myself to run into him alone yet. Especially not in private.
The other reason was I already had on a modest blouse and high-waisted skirt I’d worn for the work event. With my cardigan, it was perfectly appropriate for a fancy restaurant, and there was no smart reason for me to go fuss over my outfit. I needed to convince myself I wasn’t trying to impress him, even if I was starting to wonder about how true that was.
I had to stop myself in the hallway and talk through the anxiety bubbling up from every corner of my brain. No, I wasn’t going to blurt something stupid and mortally embarrassing the moment I saw him, like “Take my body and use me like a fuck doll.” For the record, I was only slightly worried I’d say something like that after spending an hour in awe of him while he spoke to the staff. And no, I wasn’t going to throw up on him. I wasn’t going to faint. I was just going to be a normal, well-adjusted human being.
I told myself all of that while focusing on taking deep breaths. It helped calm me a little, if not entirely.
Dean came striding through the lobby toward me a few minutes before we were supposed to meet. Jonas Pollard had presented me with an excessively generous gift card of a thousand dollars to cover our dinner after the company game the other night. He’d told me we needed to be in the lobby at seven sharp, because a black SUV was going to pick us up and take us to the restaurant.
Dean came right up to me, put a hand around my waist, and kissed me on the cheek. “You look amazing.”
I blushed so hard I thought I might get lightheaded. The only people watching were the two young receptionists at the front desk, who whispered and giggled something–probably about how hot Dean was.
“Nobody from work is watching,” I said. “You don’t need to pretend right now.”
“Who says I’m pretending? You obviously work for that body, and it looks amazing.”
I shot him a look. “Keep your eyes off my body.”
“What about my hands?” As smooth as silk, Dean slid a hand around the small of my waist. His pinky finger brushed the swell of my ass and made my skin erupt in goosebumps.
I wanted to say something clever and sassy, but all I managed was a choked. “No thank you.”
Grinning, he removed his hand and stuck his arm out for me to take. “Our car is out front. Shall we?”
Outside, the driver was already out and waiting with the back door open for us.
“Ma’am. Sir.” He said, gesturing for us to get inside.
We shimmied into the car and waited for the driver to come around to the front.
I felt a bundle of nerves in my chest and tried to tell myself to calm down again. I’d survived first contact, even if I could practically feel the burning imprint of where his finger has touched my ass. I wondered if he’d gotten hard, which led me down the unwise path of thinking he’d probably at least gotten a little hard when we kissed.
And then I had to remind myself that guys getting hard was about as consequential as the road getting wet when it rained. It didn’t mean they cared about you, loved you, or planned to treat you well.
“Hey, you okay?” Dean asked.
I shot him a look. Yes, I thought. I was just contemplating how many times your cock has gotten hard because of me and the implications of your erections. “What? Why?”
Instead of answering, he took my hand in his. “Give me a squeeze if you get nervous. I’ll cover for you.” He smiled reassuringly. None of his usual “fuck this, life is a game!” attitude was showing through. He looked sincere.