Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Without bothering to knock on Andrew’s door, I push it open and brace against whatever expression he’ll give me.
He looks up, and I get a flush of embarrassment followed by guilt, because he knows that I know he’s hiding from me. His gaze quickly goes to his computer screen, and he says, “I’m in the middle of something, Avril. Can it wait?”
No. It can’t.
I walk right up to his desk and pull the power cord free from the back of his monitor.
“What the hell, Av?” Andrew snarls as he looks up to me.
“Don’t,” is all I say.
His eyebrows pull inward. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t break your promise to me,” I tell him softly. “You promised we were good.”
“We are good,” he says, but even I can hear the lie in his voice.
Stepping back, I smooth my skirt down and take a seat in one of his guest chairs on the opposite side of his desk.
Clasping my hands in my lap, I lean forward to look him in the eye. “You remember that New Year’s Eve party our senior year?”
Andrew’s eyes darken to the color of slate. “Yeah… why?”
“I kissed you at the stroke of midnight. And you kissed me back.”
“I remember,” he murmurs. “And then you kissed Dane. And he kissed you back.”
“We were drunk and stoned,” I remind him. “But we laughed about it the next day.”
“Little different,” he mutters.
“Aha,” I say as I come up out of the chair and point an accusing finger at him. “You are totally regretting what happened at The Wicked Horse.”
Andrew’s face flushes, and he stands up from his chair. “Well, fuck, Avril… watching some guy fuck you is a little different than a drunk midnight kiss.”
I shake my head. “It’s not so different. Friday night, you and I were high on sex and lust and we acted on it. Sure… the acts were more intimate, but the point is… you’re letting it change something between us.”
Andrew gives a sigh and scrubs his hand over the scruff on his face. His eyes are troubled, and that pains me. “Aren’t you weirded out by it in the slightest? Don’t you regret doing something so impetuous and bizarre?”
I turn away from Andrew and walk over to the windows to look out over the city. It’s chilly and gray outside, but the weather doesn’t match my mood. I learned too many things this weekend that have simply lit a fire in my gut. One of the things I learned was that I was completely turned on by watching Andrew. He’d watched me back, but rather than disgust me, it… intrigued me?
Crossing my arms over my chest, I keep my gaze out the window. “You know what I regret? I regret spending years of my life not knowing my value as a woman.”
“Avril,” Andrew chastises, but I give an impatient wave of my hand.
Turning back toward him, I clarify, “I’m not talking about equality or my worth in the boardroom. You and Dane never saw me as less than you in that respect. But I am talking about my worth as a female.”
“Is this about Jamie?” Andrew asks.
I shrug. “Maybe. Partly. But mostly about me.”
“I don’t understand.”
Walking back around his desk, I sit back down in the chair again. Andrew follows suit, leaning his forearms on the top.
“Andrew,” I share with him in a low tone vibrating with revelation. “Friday night… I had power. Not a better type of power than what I wield in my career, but a power that’s important all the same. A power I never knew I had.”
“Sex,” he says hesitantly.
“The power to seek it for myself and for no other reason than to make me feel good about myself,” I clarify. “Dane was right. It was liberating. When I walked out, I knew myself better, and Andrew… God help me… but I felt good about what I did in there. I felt alive and so no, I have no regrets at all. In fact, I went back again on Saturday night.”
Andrew’s eyes stare at me wide and unblinking. When he finally talks, his voice is raspy. “You did?”
I nod enthusiastically and laugh. “Figured if Jamie was out getting some exciting sex, why shouldn’t I?”
“So, this is what? All about getting back at Jamie?” His expression is guarded, but I see the worry.
Shaking my head, I blow that idea off with another wave of my hand. “Of course, it’s not about getting back at Jamie. He would never know what I did. It’s about feeling good. I realized when I woke up Saturday… I was craving to go back. I wanted to feel good, and sexy, and powerful again. So, I went.”
Andrew slumps back in his chair, bringing his elbow to one of the armrests so he can place his chin in his palm while he studies me. Finally, he asks, “Were you like… with the same guy?”