Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
He can sure master me. In fact, he did. All I need now is for the other inhabitants of the room to disappear and for him to crook a finger at me and whisper lift your skirt. Show me.
I suppress a shiver and remind myself he’s probably not having the same kind of thoughts, judging by his expression. He’s shocked to see me, of course he is. And I expect a normal person on a normal timeline would rather pluck out their own eyeballs than see Whit again after such an awkward… decoupling? De-fingering?
To put it another way, my post-orgasmic glow disappeared in the length of time it took him to remove his fingers and choke out my name. It’s not a moment I choose to dwell on because I also remember his expression as he watched me fall apart. What I saw in his eyes still has the power to take my breath away.
And that’s the reason I’m brave enough to stand here. The reason lady parts are currently as enthusiastic as a tween at a Taylor Swift concert. Externally, of course, I’m more relaxed. I’m a head tilt and a friendly, closed-lipped smile. Kind of it’s so nice to see you.
Can I see more of you?
Pretty please?
I’m here for the experience… here, in freakin’ London! Standing in the office of my longtime secret crush with an amended agenda. And oh, my gosh, is that London Bridge in the distance?
Jody waddles over to Whit’s desk, slapping down the folder she’s carrying. My contract, already signed by the HR director. “I forgot, you two already know each other.”
“H-hardly,” Whit stutters, the words coming out like a motorbike with problems starting. How cute! I made the hot man stutter!
He seems to give his head a little shake before rounding his desk, so tall, dark, and so freakin’ handsome—he’s like Superman on attractive steroids. Then he’s here, in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, and those tiger eyes intent on mine. My poor little heart goes “Ah me” in an echo of Juliet, Romeo’s boo. My eyes flutter closed as he leans in to kiss my cheek. I inhale lungsful of his heady scent of cedarwood, spice, and black pepper, but it’s the scent of nostalgia that makes me want to melt.
My insides absolutely contract as his warm breath caresses my cheek, and I guess I must make some kind of noise or reaction because then his low voice rumbles, “Behave yourself.”
Not even! No way! Not when I’m this close to exploding again.
Yep, that’s what I said xxx-plode.
He moves back a little without moving his hands from my shoulders. “It’s been a while,” he says as his eyes bore into mine in all their animal intensity, demanding I play along.
“Oh my gosh, a hot minute at least.” I don’t bother to hide my grin because his broad shoulders are already doing that for me. “I bet you’re surprised to see me again.”
This man, that voice, the experience, gives me all the shivers. That night was probably the first time in my life I wasn’t worried about my lack of thigh gap. It didn’t seem to bother him none, either. While I might not have come to London with Whit in mind, boy do I now want to know what makes Daddy tick.
“You could say that,” he returns, his expression revealing no hint of his thoughts. He did seem pleased to see me before. Pleased to feel me, too. But then things got awkward, and he said he didn’t realize who I was. That he was expecting someone else. Someone else he confused me for? Someone else he’d never met? I’ve spent a lot of time pondering this, and you bet your sweet behind I plan on having that delicious conundrum answered. Just not right now. And not back then, afterward, I mean, because I couldn’t get out of the place fast enough. Oh. The. Mortification. But I’m over it now. Mainly because I choose to be.
“But it was nice, right? The last time we saw each other.” Well, you saw a little more of me than I saw of you…
“Nice?” If ice had a voice, it would sound like that.
“Well, I thought it was nice.”
One of his brow quirks like a question mark. “Refresh my memory. What exactly was nice about it?”
“When you helped me out. You did that, you know, thing?”
“Did I?”
“You know. You helped me with that project?” My cheeks must be aiding global warming right now. “The digital remaster thing?” Help! I’m spouting nonsense!
This time, it’s his lips that quirk. Barely. “Digital mastery?” His hands slip down my arms. He folds them across his broad chest.
“Yeah, that was really nice.” I clasp my fingers in a death grip, desperate to contain my delight. “It was very…” I glance around, unable to bear the weight of his dark taunting gaze, not without giving in to a joy-filled squeal. “Enlightening.”