Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
That’s the answer to all this cranked-up pressure inside me.
I want to see her soon.
I just want to see her. Hold her. Talk to her. Be with her.
Pretty sure she said her brother was leaving tonight. In a flash, I pop up, stalk to my desk, grab my phone. She’s in her interview right now though. So I start with a simple text: Hey there…thinking of you. Hoping the meeting with Amelie goes well.
Then, I tap out another, What are you doing tonight? Can I see you?
There. I can breathe, I can work, I can focus. I stretch my neck from side to side, crack my knuckles, and dive back in.
But I keep reaching for my phone on my desk to see if she’s replied.
I keep checking the time to see when I can check in again.
It’s nearly five.
I can be patient. I won’t push her.
But when I close my eyes, I see her, I feel her, I smell her.
I wish she were here right now. If she were, I’d…
I groan, unbidden.
I know what I’d do if she were here.
After I open my eyes, I send one more message.
When you’re done with your interview, I’d like to see you. I’d like to kiss you. I’d like to put you on my desk, slide my hands up your thighs, and then taste you. Everywhere.
I’m at the office. No one’s here.
The second she walks through the doorway, I tug her to me, kicking the door closed as I lift her into my arms.
I greet her with a deep, passionate kiss. I don’t stop kissing as I carry her—her legs wrapped around my waist—to my desk.
Then, I set her down on it.
With a naughty grin, like the vixen she sometimes is, she leans back, pats the oak, and says, “It is a really big desk.”
“Let’s see how well it works,” I tell her, then I lock the door quickly and return to her. I slide a hand down her bare leg, traveling to her right ankle, the one with the scar. “Put your foot on the desk.”
She places the spike of her high-heeled foot right on the edge of the wood.
Lust shoots down my body.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, then I sit down in my chair, pull it closer to the desk, and I bend to kiss the scar. I do it gently, adoringly, treating her like the gift that she is.
A shuddery breath greets my ears.
My hand wraps around her ankle. I brush my lips along her skin. Then up her calf. That tempting vanilla scent of her lotion drifts into my head, intoxicating me. I reach her knee, traveling to kiss the side, then the back.
A soft gasp.
A wriggle.
I smile and set my other hand on her other leg, slowly, luxuriously, spreading her legs open for me. I raise my face, needing to look at her.
She’s watching me, her green eyes glittering with want.
“I’ve thought about this before,” she says in a soft confession. Heat spreads down my back as I turn my face to her left leg, brushing my stubbled jaw along her soft, delicate skin.
“And how does this compare?” I ask.
I can feel her smile more than see it as she says, “I don’t have enough data yet.”
“We should do more research,” I suggest.
She leans back. “I like research. Lots of research, Mr. James.”
“Me too.” I kiss her thigh again. She’s like a treasure, and I want to discover every precious facet of her.
The way she gives herself to me is such a privilege.
She trembles as I kiss up her inner thigh, closer, and closer still. Her scent drives me wild.
“Please.”
That word tugs on my heart and makes me impossibly harder at the same damn time.
With a groan, I devote myself fully to my mission, teasing her with my mouth, then I push her skirt up higher, bunching the fabric at her waist and revealing her panties.
Tiny, white lace.
I stop. I’m trembling too. I need a fucking moment.
I lift my face again, craving eye contact. She must be as well, because she’s looking at me with expectation in her gaze. I think she’s been looking at me the whole time.
“Do you like?” She sounds hopeful.
I rush out a throaty, “I love.” Then I cover the white lace with my hand, pressing the heel of my palm against her heat.
She cries out. “Yessss.”
Jolts of pleasure shoot through my body all at once. I don’t know if I can survive this. I’m more aroused than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m willing to try.
“I almost don’t want to take these off,” I tell her, running a finger along the seam of her panties. “They’re innocent and seductive at the same time. They’re just like you.”
In a feather of a voice, she says, “I think you’re seducing me.”
I answer first with action as I play with the lace, running a finger along the outline of the fabric.