Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Then my feet remember how to function, and I step out of the elevator, still staring mutely like an idiot.
"You must be Bonnie," he says, and holy hell, it's a good thing he didn't send me higher heels. It's hard enough to keep my balance at the sound of that deep, sexy voice of his, almost a growl in itself. "You look lovely, my dear."
"Sir," I reply, all I can think to say. Instantly, I hate the way I sound in comparison, so high-pitched and young. "Um. You look great too, sir," I manage. Ack. Why am I so awkward?
Oh, maybe because I've never had a billionaire rent out a private rooftop in preparation for defiling me before. I swallow, hard, past the nervous lump in my throat.
"I trust your morning went well." There's a faint smile on his lips, and a knowing tease in his voice.
"As well as possible, considering I was being tortured for half of it," I respond with a sarcastic smile of my own.
His grin only deepens. "Believe me, Bonnie, you don't know the meaning of torture."
A shiver races down my spine and settles deep in my body, centered somewhere around my already-damp panties. Damn him. "I trust you'll remedy that shortly, sir," I respond with a toss of my hair, stepping around him to slide into the seat he draws out for me.
"You seem quite comfortable," he remarks as he takes the seat beside me. We're close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin, and his arm almost brushes mine, not quite, but close enough that the hairs standing on end on my forearm touch his coat sleeve. "Are you positive you haven't done this before?" His eyes catch mine, cock-sure and confident as hell.
Fuck, I wish it was easier to breathe around him. "I'm glad I fake it well." I arch one eyebrow, but there's a telltale quiver in my voice, and I curse myself for it. I didn't want to seem weak.
He seems to enjoy it, though. "There it is," he responds, his voice nearly a purr it's so soft. Then he snaps his fingers, and the sound is so startling on the quiet rooftop that I jump in my chair. "Champagne please," he says without taking his eyes off me, and for a second I think he means for me to serve him, until I notice movement out of the corner of my eye. A waiter appears, also in a suit, and carefully fills two flutes with champagne.
"Would you like to see the menu, sir?" the waiter asks, and Pierce shakes his head. He still won't take his eyes from mine.
Which means I still can't catch my breath.
"We'll have the chef's choice."
"What's the chef's choice?" I ask, as the waiter steps away from the table.
Pierce shrugs one shoulder. "No idea. That's part of the fun. Being surprised."
"Ah," I reply, not quite sure what else to say. I'm the kind of person who reads the whole menu three times over before I decide what I want, and even then I second-guess myself half the time.
"So." Those eyes scour my body again, pausing to linger on my chest before he catches my gaze again. "Tell me who you are, Bonnie."
"Er . . ." I procrastinate by taking a small sip of champagne, but it doesn't help. I shake my head a little to clear it. "I'm a student, studying to be a nurse in—"
"I didn't say tell me what you do," he interrupts. "I said tell me who you are."
"Well, I'm an Aquarius." I grin as he rolls his eyes. "And I also think zodiac signs are kind of bullshit, before you say anything else." He laughs at that. "Hmm, and . . ." Who am I? Why is this so hard to articulate? I force myself to look away from those piercing eyes of his, and study my empty plate instead. "I'm the kind of person who takes an eon to decide on my entree at restaurants, and then no matter what I choose, I have food regrets."
"Noted." He smirks.
"And, I . . . I'm kind of an introvert. But I like being around people too. Ambivert maybe? Like, I enjoy parties and meeting new people and making new friends, but I need recharge time in between to be alone and get my head on straight again."
"Sounds pretty normal to me."
I shrug.
"That's it?" he asks when I fall silent again.
"Well, it's a hard question," I protest.
"Those are the only kinds of questions worth asking, if you ask me."
I roll my eyes. "Okay, fine, Pierce, who are you, then?"
"An egotistical and eccentric man with a penchant for corrupting nice young ladies such as yourself, probably because I was corrupted at an early age myself and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I'm an acquired taste, but I try to make up for that by ensuring that anyone who spends too much time with me is rewarded, shall we say . . ." His fingers brush my inner forearm, ever so lightly, the barest touch on my naked skin, but it makes my whole body stiffen. I almost gasp in shock at the rush of electricity that flows through my body. "Pleasurably."