Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
"Oh, I never take it off," he says.
"What about showers?"
"Straight out of the suit and into a new one after."
"Sex?"
He smiles wouldn't you like to know. "Sienna, you know I can't tell you that. It's all you'll think about."
"Uh-huh." Maybe. Probably. Definitely. "And you're here because…"
"I wanted to see your beautiful face."
My blush deepens, even though I know it's bullshit. "Really?"
He nods of course. Motions and—"Ty asked me to collect you. We're going to dinner tonight."
Right. It's Friday. With the wedding the Saturday after next, there's a new festivity every day. "Are we going back to your hotel room?"
He shoots me a nice try.
"I live in their building! Why would he need you to collect me?"
"Apparently, you're often late to family functions."
That's true, but—"Not everyone runs their own company. Some of us are on other people's schedules."
"Be late. Make Ty wait for once."
"I like the way you think." Okay. I like the way he looks too. The way he dresses. The way he flirts.
I like him.
I want him.
But I can handle my desire for two tiny weeks. Even if I'm spending most of my free time in Cam's presence.
And he's even more handsome today than the last time I saw him.
And I'm already thinking about dragging him to my apartment.
It's only two weeks.
So what if I want him more than I've ever wanted anyone?
How hard can it be to resist him?
Chapter Three
Cam
The last time I was at Ty's flat, the place was sparse, lonely. Now, it's filled with touches of his fiancée: a bookshelf of old movies, a tea set on the dining table, a grand piano in the corner.
He's found a home with her.
I'm happy for him. Sure, I'm a mess when it comes to love and commitment, but I can ignore that for a few weeks.
Ty isn't asking me to deal with my fucked-up thoughts.
He isn't asking me to believe in love.
No, it's much worse than that.
Ty is asking me to keep Sienna company.
Her older sister, his fiancée, is the only family she has left. And Ty being Ty, he's worried Sienna is going to feel like she's losing her best friend.
So, I'm here to keep her entertained.
He trusts me with his future sister-in-law.
But here I am, in his flat, picturing her naked.
There are millions of eligible women in New York City alone. Why am I lusting after the one woman who will destroy my life?
Is my self-destructive streak really that strong?
Fuck. I need a drink.
I find a bottle of gin in the fridge, fill a glass with ice, pour, sip.
It's not red wine, but it's not bad.
Alcohol, cardamom, juniper.
Memories of college parties, bad dates, one-night stands.
The night Ty slipped me my first drink.
It's almost too much. Too familiar. Too close to the wound.
Keys jingle in the front door. Sienna.
She showered and dressed at her flat, the one three flights downstairs. Now she's here.
I swallow another sip of gin. Will it to cool my thoughts. To banish Sienna from my mind.
Instead, my head fills with the image of her in the shower. Naked, dripping wet, her long brown hair sticking to her tan skin.
Fuck.
I'm not this man.
I screw around sometimes, sure, but I'm smart about it. I don't fuck friends or coworkers or friends' exes.
No one taken.
No one who will fuck up my life.
Certainly not the woman my best friend sees as a kid sister.
The door turns. Sienna steps into the main room in a short rust dress. She twirls to show off her outfit.
My gaze goes to her thighs. I'm already picturing the dress five centimeters higher. I'm already imagining her knickers.
Burnt orange. Like her name.
Apparently my cock is a cheesy motherfucker.
She lands. Smooths her skirt. "You like it?"
I'd like it better on the floor. "You clean up nice."
She flips me off.
I take another sip. Focus on the familiar taste. "You look gorgeous."
"Thank you." She crosses the room to me. Sets a gold clutch on the dining table. "I agree."
"Humble."
"Oh, really, Cameron Hunt is giving me lessons on humility?"
My stomach churns at the sound of my full name. No one calls me Cameron. Not anymore. I shrug it off. Find a poker face. My brand of aloof. Am I teasing or not? Who knows? Certainly not me.
It's easier with Americans.
They're always more expressive than they believe they are.
And Sienna—
There's so much in her hazel eyes. Curiosity. Desire. Affection.
"Is there something you want to say?" I tease her back.
Her lips curl into a smile. She's wearing makeup today. A soft red on her lips.
I need those lips on mine.
I need them parting with a groan.
I need them wrapped around my cock.
"I know, it must be hard, being so beautiful," she says. "Sometimes, you just need to proclaim it."
"It's painful, yes."
"It's a burden. But you wear it well."
"And you don't?"
Her smile widens. "What are you drinking?"
"Gin."
"Where's mine?"
"Have you ever heard the word please?" I copy her tease.