Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thomas
It takes all my self-control not to slide my hand up her leg, especially when I feel her body responding—her whimper and the way she shivers, as if the pleasure is pulsing through her. Somehow, I manage to stop, leaning back and letting out a shuddering breath.
Only the fact that we’re in public enables me to stop. If we were in private, I’d savage her, tear off her clothes. I’d force my huge, hard dick into her young hole passionately, pumping until my seed rushes up my shaft and erupts inside her.
A baby… a future… But none of that can happen if I don’t keep her safe. There’s still that notion that won’t go away—the idea that she’ll do whatever I want simply because I’m a billionaire. She already mentioned my wealth when talking about me kissing other women. You’re a billionaire. Did I detect any excitement in her voice? Hunger? Eagerness?
It’s difficult to think past the burning in my chest, the heat of my heartbeat, and the stiffness in my cock. She’s so much sexier in person than she ever was in the video, with her smell, taste, and bloody hell, just her.
“We have to go,” I say, “but enough with the negative self-talk, all right? You’re beautiful, sexy, perfect. That’s all there is to it.”
She folds her hands in her lap, looking out the window as I continue driving. Her cheeks have turned a deep shade of red.
“Do you know what love bombing is?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say, but she goes on anyway.
“It’s when somebody showers a person with gifts, compliments, and attention, in the beginning, to get them hooked, and then uses that to hold power over them. One of my friends had a boyfriend who was like that. None of us had any clue at first.”
“What’s your point?” I growl.
She looks at me, head lowered, but eyes on me, so she’s staring through her eyelashes. I alternate my gaze between her and the road, wishing I had a photo of her looking that way.
“All these compliments…”
“It’s the truth,” I tell her.
“That’s a funny concept coming from you since you won’t tell me the truth.”
Maybe she’s fishing, wondering how invested the billionaire is in her. Maybe she’s trying to work out how to play this. Or perhaps she’s just a nineteen-year-old woman with valid questions about the older man who’s taken a sudden interest. Interest, yeah, like that’s all it is.
We don’t say anything for the rest of the drive. When I pull up outside the building, she looks around at the clean streets. A few pedestrians walk by, and a lady with a pampered dog is on a pink leash with studded jewels around the collar.
“This is a nice area,” she says quietly.
“I’m glad you like it. You’ll be living here from now on. I own a flat on the top floor, and there’s security. You’ll be safe.”
“I thought… You don’t live here?”
She raises an eyebrow, triggering an alarm inside me, a wailing I can’t ignore. She thought we would stay together, which I would prefer, but I’d lose control more than I already have if I did that. I’d tell her she’s mine. I’d tell her she’s never going to kiss another man for the rest of her life, and if any man even thinks about sleeping with her, I’ll break his bloody bones.
“Let me show you up,” I tell her.
I climb from the car and walk around to her side, but she’s already opened the door and standing up. She looks up and down the street as if debating running away, then meets my eye with a small shaky smile.
“This isn’t what I thought being an intern would be.”
I nod, then place my hand on the small of her back, inches from her voluptuous, delicious ass. She’s still in her work clothes, a similar sort of skirt to the one she wore in her application video, hip-hugging and outlining her thick legs. She reaches up, then lowers her hand.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I was going to touch your arm.”
“Do it, then.”
“You’re very bossy. Has anybody ever told you that?”
“Not to my face. It’s refreshing,” I smirk.
She takes my arm, and I lead her across the street. The doorman opens up for us, waving us inside.
“Mr. Tithing,” he says with a nod.
We walk across the marble lobby and then up the elevator. I take out my wallet and find the access card.
“Easier than carrying around twenty keys,” I explain, swiping the card.
“Is that how many apartments—”
I lean down and kiss her on the cheek. “I think you mean flats.”
“But is it?” she asks, flushing from the kiss.
“Around that,” I tell her. “I rent out most of them, but the tenant for this one just left.”
“Making more money, huh?”
“I rent them at half rates, or sometimes less,” I explain gruffly. “Believe it or not, I’m not just a selfish bastard.”