Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Weirdly, I…sort of believe him.
There was a crazy live wire of attraction between us that day at graduation. If he’d kissed me behind that stage, there’s no way I would have been able to resist. A kiss, maybe even a lot more. I definitely didn’t give him the impression that he would need to pay to have me. He made that offer unprompted. And when I turned it down, he continued to pursue me. There is no mistaking the fact that he wants me. Physically. Looking into his eyes, I can also see clearly he didn’t intend to bribe me.
Why do I have an even more compelling urge to run for the exit now?
Because of one thing he said.
I want to take care of her in all ways.
If I was in a relationship with this man, he wouldn’t let me clean houses. He wouldn’t let me work a day job that I’m overqualified for. He’d wear down my resistance until I accepted the tuition money. He’d spoil me in this cushy townhouse. I’d get comfortable—and then he’d have me. I’d be stuck, controlled, desperate to keep the status quo because I’m suddenly reliant on his good nature, all of my independence sucked out through a straw. In a way, men are a lot like the loan companies. They’re the only option. They’re all a person has got to keep their apples in the air. And they do you dirty with interest. Well, not me.
“Very well,” I say. “I believe what you’re telling me. That your offer wasn’t a bribe.”
“Good,” he says, his relief evident. “Now—”
“But I’m still only here to clean your house. That’s all‚” I manage, my body still smothered in awareness. Staunchly, I ignore the desire prickling every nerve ending I possess and pick up my cleaning supplies. “Where should I begin?”
Three
Dean
This girl is going to be the death of me.
She’s stubborn as hell. Hard working. Gorgeous. Intelligent.
It will be a cold day in hell before she scrubs my fucking floors.
Over the last four weeks, I’ve learned everything I can about Charlotte Beck. There is little available on the internet, since she rarely posts anything on social media sites. Nothing but articles from medical journals about breakthrough transplants, more than a few of them written by me. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t please me. After a month of her avoiding me like the plague, my ego needs all the boosting it can get.
I fell for her that day at graduation. Hard.
But over the course of the last month, Charlotte has become an obsession.
God help me, I’ve become a certified stalker of this beautiful, brainy girl who is a full decade younger than me. On my rare breaks from the OR, I find myself wandering toward her office building, watching from the restaurant across the street as she runs in and out with trays of coffee. This brilliant mind is an errand girl—and it’s galling. I lose sleep every night over the fact that she’s not living up to her potential. I need to help. To repair the problem with money, of which I have plenty, and she refuses to take it.
Refuses to give in to this animalistic attraction, too. Even though one squeeze of her tight ass turns her pliant and horny. Makes her moan like I’m balls deep.
This girl denies herself everything she wants. Everything she needs.
Every time I come close to unlocking the mystery of her, there’s a new twist.
And she’s not leaving this house until I have answers, so help me God.
Traditional approaches aren’t going to work with Charlotte Beck. She wants nothing to do with long stem roses. Has no interest in three hundred grand worth of tuition. My phone calls were never going to be returned. And maybe an ethical man—I used to be one—would cut his losses and walk away. But there’s no way I can do that. My head is consumed with her, day in and day out. Through the night, she stars in my dreams. I fuck my fist to fantasies of taking her. Behind that graduation stage, still wearing her cap and gown, long legs wrapped around my jackhammering hips. Christ. I’ve never needed anything so badly in my life.
I’m not imagining that she needs it, too.
Needs me.
So there’s no choice but to double down. If my traditional pursuit of her isn’t going to work, we’ll go unconventional. Knowing what I do about her iron will and fascination with medicine, maybe this is what I should have done all along.
“You want to clean, Charlotte?” I say, clamping a hand on the back of my neck to keep from throwing her down on the couch and shoving that skirt up to her hips, so I can taste the pussy I’ve been dreaming about for weeks. “Fine. My office is in need of organizing. Follow me.”