Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“It’s not worth that. I’ve seen the financials. You can’t lowball me on one end and talk it up on the other. Either it’s gold or it’s shit. Pick a position.”
I slid my hands higher and ran my palm along the seam of his zipper, isolating him through the fabric. It twitched, stiffened, grew. He shifted lower in the seat and pulled at the strap of my top, getting it off of my shoulder, then moved the cell phone to his left hand and did the same with the other. His fingers trailed across the neckline and slid under the cotton, dragging it down and exposing my bra.
His eyes locked on the skin, savoring the dip of my cleavage, and the worship, the need in his eyes … sixty seconds in his presence and I was already wet.
He laid the phone on his shoulder and I could hear a man speaking, figures and occupancy rates, the shuffle of papers and a second voice chiming in. It sounded like a meeting, a group sitting on the other end of the phone. A group who might hear whatever I was about to do. I reached forward and quietly pulled down his zipper.
* * *
DARIO
This woman was fucking nuts. He’d come here to have a serious conversation with her, to talk through everything, and she was mixing his common sense with tequila and downing it for sport. He should be pushing her off. Giving her the sort of look that put a thousand casino employees in their place. He should finish this call—a call that could make or break this negotiation—and then deal with her.
She worked her hands through the thin opening of his zipper and the pocket of his underwear and wrapped her hand around him, the throb of his cock pounding at the delicate yet firm touch of her hand. Jesus. He stared at her, his eyes struggling between the playful curve of that mouth and what lay underneath her top. She pulled him free and his thoughts scattered at the sight of him in her hand. He pulled her shirt lower, his dick twitching at the sight of her breasts, pale and firm, covered with a black lace bra.
She let go of his cock and pressed on his thighs, pushing herself up his body. He shifted against the seat, and she straddled him, her knees tight to his hips, his cock still at attention between them. She leaned forward, the fabric of her shirt tickling him, and put her mouth to his ear.
“My phone isn’t working.”
Yes. Hence his need to waste thirty minutes of a back-to-back day by sitting in this parking lot and waiting for her. He slid his hand through her dark hair, exposing her ear, and put his mouth against the spot. “Vince has a new one for you.”
Changing her cell had been necessary after her brief exposure to Robert Hawk. That brief flash of her number across the screen had been enough for that psycho to memorize the number and sic his dogs on it. The moment Dario stepped outside the restaurant, he’d had Vince on the phone, and initiated contact with their men at the cell phone carriers. Eight minutes after he’d called Vince, her phone had been shut off, the service suspended, and all ownership information on her account cleared. If Robert got curious about the female voice on the other end of the call, the cell phone number would get him nowhere.
Ten minutes after he’d called Vince, there’d been men on campus, she’d been located in class and discretely protected. Seeing her now, safe and untouched, gave his heart a well-needed rest. Thinking about the fact that she’d been at that professor’s house for the last hour, doing who knew what, made him jealous as fuck.
Her hand found his cock and squeezed it, and he let out a rough breath. He tilted his head down, pressing his lips against the hollows of her neck and kissed her there.
He interrupted his acquisitions head in the midst of his monologue. “I need to look at these figures and wrap my head around the changes. Let’s talk tomorrow—same time.” He ended the call without waiting for a response, then tossed the cell on the other seat, his hands moving to her waist. She leaned back, working her grip up and down his shaft and looked at him.
“What happened to my phone?”
“I had it turned off.” He slid his hands up her torso and moved the right one, pulling the top of her bra down and sitting up, his mouth finding her nipple.
Her hand tightened around him. “Why?”
He swiped his tongue across the nipple’s tip, then looked up at her. “The man who answered my phone—I didn’t want him to be able to contact you.”
“I didn’t say anything. When he asked who I was, I just hung up.”