Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
I stand still.
Listen.
The door closes.
I breathe in, my heart going like the clappers, just with the thought of seeing her. She’s mere feet away from me. There’s a door between us. And I’m buzzing.
I brace my hands on the sink to get my breathing under control. I have to be together when I open that door. Calm but determined. I reach up to rake a hand through my hair, knocking my tin of hair wax to the tile floor as I do. Shit. My eyes fly to the door. It’s now or never. On a deep breath, I edge forward, take the handle, and pull it open.
She swings around and gasps.
And there she is.
My lungs fail me.
Her bag hits the floor, and the sound is deafening in the silence. I keep my mouth firmly shut and let her drink me in. She’s fidgeting, but she’s not running. Will she submit to me?
“Is this some kind of joke?” she asks over a nervous laugh, no doubt at my boldness. I can’t quite believe I’m doing this myself, but I need to have this woman. Fuck, I’ve got to have her. The fight stops now. I’ve never needed to go to these lengths. A woman has never done this to me, so here I am, half-naked, cornering my interior designer, desperate for her to admit the crazy chemistry we shared.
Her eyes wander all over my chest, and I just stand before her, letting her take me in, my eyes lowered slightly and burning with the need to blink. But I won’t blink. I don’t want to miss a moment of this look of awe on her face. I don’t want to miss the second she stops fighting me. She’s imagined this. She’s imagined my naked chest. What it would be like to kiss me. Be with me.
She’s going to find out.
Her chest pushes against her fitted black dress as she takes a deep breath. I’m not going to be able to stand here much longer. I’m desperate to move in.
Shifting again, her neck flexes, the taut expanse of smooth flesh at her throat begging me to place my mouth there. She’s psyching herself up. But she’s still edgy.
“Relax, Ava,” I say softly. “You know you want this.” I take tentative steps toward her, my hands twitching, ready to take hold of that small waist. Our eyes are locked. I’m not breaking this connection. My body is singing, my headspace flooded with her and her alone. I feel wobbly with the rush of returned sensations. Unstable. High as a kite on lust and anticipation.
When I’m a few feet away from her, I see her tense more, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, her gaze drifts upward as I get closer until I’m towering over her. I don’t touch her. Instead, I get our bodies as close as I can, but it’s taking every fucking bit of effort I possess not to grab her.
“Turn around,” I order softly.
I let out a quiet, relieved breath when she slowly pivots, giving me her back and the zip of her dress. My eyes skate the length of her spine, my blood burning. I feel wary and euphoric.
I’m enthralled. Spellbound.
I’ve not touched her, am almost scared to, because something deep and unsettling inside is telling me that if I do, I might not ever let go. I need to maintain this rapture. I need to feel my heart beat this hard every day.
I watch as her shoulders solidify and hear as her breaths turn harsh. I’m matching her reactions with my own.
She makes to turn back toward me, and my hands fly up fast, my palms resting on her shoulders. We both jolt with the contact, and I clench my eyes closed, blood starting to whoosh in my ears. I slowly release a hand, silently pleading for her to stay exactly where she is. She does. No fight.
Reaching forward, I scoop her hair up, the shiny, dark locks that match her eyes, feeling like silk on my palm. I let it tumble down her front, my eyes fixed on the bare skin of her nape, and as much as I want to kiss it, I need to take this slowly. I’m not doing anything that will freak her out. I should laugh at my own audacity. I’ve cornered the poor woman and presented myself to her half-naked. You don’t get more audacious than that. And yet . . . she’s still here.
But still so tense. I need to soften her up, so I start slowly rubbing away the tightness in her shoulder, smiling to myself when I see her head roll and then hear a slight purr coming from those lips—the lips I want to devour. She likes it, so I increase the pressure and move my mouth to her ear.