Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
"Such as?"
"For one, I pay you a shitload of money to be my assistant. If you quit, I'd be completely screwed." He finishes the transfer and looks at me, green eyes full of mischief.
"If you're expecting empathy from me because of my salary, you're dreaming." I nudge him with my shoulder. "Now, show me how Drake Evans treats his dates. We've got two more hours until this thing is over."
A smirk touches his mouth. "Oh, Ellie. You have no idea what you just asked for."
I raise my brows and take a sip of my drink, determined not to show how excited I am at his words.
His hand slides to my waist, pulling me close. Immediately, I can feel the difference in our interaction, the intimacy in his touch that wasn’t there before. It feels like everyone in the room is staring at us, but I don't care. "Let's get to mingling, sweet Ellie. I've paid a pretty penny to show you off."
I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach flips when he says my name. "You're so annoying."
It's not a lie. Drake is annoying. But being on his arm as he moves through the crowd, shaking hands and making connections with the most powerful people in attendance, makes up for the annoyance. He introduces me like I'm royalty, the word "assistant" never being uttered once.
This is a game, and I'm having fun. The night is going well. We laugh and joke with the other guests, and Drake's hand never leaves my body in any fashion for long, always on my hip or linking his fingers with mine. He treats me like something precious, and it's addicting. I like being on display. Even better, I like how people react when they see us together. They're surprised, to say the least. And if I'm being honest, a little jealous. I wonder if they think Drake is off the market now. The thought makes me giggle.
Drake turns to me, raising an eyebrow. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," I say, "Just enjoying myself."
He opens his mouth to say something, but then his gaze catches on something over my shoulder, and his expression falls. I try to turn around to look, but Drake holds me in place. When I meet his eye, he hisses, "Don't look, but Kate Nott is here. How in the hell did she get a ticket?!"
My mirth flees at his words. Kate Nott is what people call a ‘super fan’. In my opinion, ‘stalker’ is much more fitting. She comes to every event Drake attends and does her damnedest to run into him in public, too. Kate is obsessed in the worst way possible. In her mind, Drake is her soulmate, and nothing will stand in her way.
"Quick." His hand flies up to cup my face while his other hand pulls our bodies together. "Kiss me so she'll leave."
I have less than a second to process his words before my mouth blurts, "Okay."
I barely have time to blink before his lips are on mine. Drake is kissing me, and I'm standing frozen, eyes wide in shock. His mouth is hot and insistent, his body so close I can feel his heart beating. I'm stunned, but after a few moments, my hands reach up to tangle in his shirt. The kiss deepens, Drake's tongue running across my bottom lip. A groan escapes him, and I'm sure I'm about to go up in flames.
Eyes fluttering shut, a little whimper escapes my throat. I've wanted this for so long, and it's better than I ever could have imagined. Kissing him feels like falling, but the best kind. The kind where you know someone will catch you.
This could go on forever, and I'd be happy, but our location is suddenly brought back to my attention when someone yells, "Get a room!"
My eyes fly open, and I see Drake glaring at the man who spoke. His jaw is clenched tight, but when he glances over my shoulder again, he relaxes. "Good. She's gone."
Oh, that's right. We were kissing to get rid of Kate. Not because of some pent-up sexual tension between us that has been growing minute by minute. When his lips touched mine, my brain forgot about Kate Nott, mixers, or even the convention.
I feel like a fool.
But that didn't feel like a kiss for show. Not even close. The passion, the desperation. That didn't come from nowhere.
Pulling away from him, I meet his eyes. He's staring at me like I'm a puzzle he can't quite figure out. My breath catches in my throat. This is it. A question rises in my mind, but my lips refuse to form the words. I can't bring myself to ask what this means.
Luckily, I don't have to. Another one of Drake's acquaintances, this one drunk, comes from behind him and slaps him on the shoulder, dragging him away from me and into a conversation I don't even bother to pay attention to. Feeling lost, I start to step away, wanting to just go back to the room, but Drake's hand reaches out and twines his fingers with mine. It stops me in my tracks.