Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
She’d been evading his most recent calls, but then longed for him to contact her again. When too much time passed, she began to worry, and then would respond via text—just timely enough to let him know she was still there, but not so fast as to stroke his ego. Make him think he’d won anything. Childish? Maybe. She wanted to be chased. Pursued. This time, she didn’t want him to give up on her so easily. He needed to prove to her that he was for real, especially since she was now considering breaking her rule to stay single for a long while.
After he saw her dancing at the club, she felt a sense of vulnerability she’d hadn’t experienced since she was in her early twenties. It wasn’t shame. Not sadness, either. It was like a dark veil being lifted ever so slowly to expose the past, and let the light in from the present and future. He’d messaged her earlier in the day to see how she was doing. It was a nice gesture, especially since he’d been busy at work. She texted him back that she was doing fine. His response was short and sweet: That’s good to hear.
The pursuit she desired? It was working. He was breaking her down. Whittling her to nothing but stardust. He’d said he was going to get her after all and now, she believed him. Every damn syllable he’d uttered. He was making it so hard for her to get him out of her system because he was consistent, still an excellent listener, and not too pushy. It was almost like he’d studied her and found out her weaknesses. She didn’t want to be in a relationship, and she damn sure didn’t want to be in love, but there was no way she could be with a man like Lennox and not fall head over heels. He was kryptonite even for the strongest of Super Women.
So once that door was opened, it was never getting closed. He was so ingrained within her, a part of her fabric of life, there was no way she could completely rid herself of him, even if she tried. I’m so confused… Lennox, you were so easy to talk to back then. You were my friend. Didn’t judge me. Just listened.
She looked down at her phone and pulled up a picture she’d taken of the two of them while he was at her apartment. He was standing right behind her, his wide, hard chest pressed into her back and his chin resting on the top of her head as he held her around the waist. He was smiling into the camera, and she was smiling at the both of them. She looked… happy.
Damn, he is still fine. He looks even better. All muscular, tan, and sexy as hell. Look at his eyes… those lips. Shit. His smile used to always kill me. He smelled so good, too…
Her pussy tightened like a fist, then tickled with a trickle of sweet lust-fueled moisture.
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Her heart raced as the abrupt knock broke into the quiet of her daydreams, followed quickly by the doorbell ringing.
“Poppy Florist! Delivery!” a man yelled out.
She grabbed the television remote control and put it on mute. Standing up from her couch, she made her way over to the door and looked out the peephole. There, on the other side, was an older man sporting a gray hat with stitchwork of flowers, and ‘Poppy Florist’ written beneath it. He was holding a large bouquet of pink and red roses, a thick pink sash wrapped around it, and a small matching pink bag.
“I didn’t order any flowers,” she barked from behind her locked door.
The man chuckled and shook his head. “Ma’am, they’re for you. From a… hold on…” The guy struggled to hold the flowers and bag steady as he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “…From a Lennox Wilde.”
Her heart hammering within her, she undid all three locks from the door and opened it. The man handed her the flowers, then a piece of paper to sign. Off he went while she stood there holding the huge bouquet and little boutique-style bag.
She closed the door, set everything down on the hallway table, then locked the door again. Collecting the items in her hand, she grinned until her face hurt. In the kitchen, she placed the flowers in a large vase, then opened the card that was standing on the front of the bag.
Baby girl, you’ve been avoiding me a little, and that’s okay.
What’s meant to be will be. You’re mine, like I told you. As soon as we saw each other again, sparks flew. I’m not a patient man, but I’ve waited for you for over ten years. A few more weeks won’t matter. I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. I’m not the storm you fear, but I promise, I will still get you wet…