Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“You want to go ahead with the tattoo?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he says gruffly.
It never happened.
The words repeat in my mind in the same tough tone he said them in. It seems he really meant it.
We’re going to pretend that heat was just a dream.
I’m starting to believe it was.
“That design connects to the tribal quite intricately, so I think we’ll need more than one session.”
“I don’t mind the pain.”
He doesn’t say this as a bluff as other men might. It’s more of a cold statement of fact. He’s not trying to impress me.
“It’s not that.”
My cheeks are burning, like in the office, and he’s not even here. I need to calm myself down.
“I’ve never done a piece this big before,” I go on. “I want to give it my all.”
His voice softens with a glimmer of sympathy, but I could be imagining it, imagining everything between us. “I understand. We can do more than one session.”
A pause, leaving me wanting to scream at him, to ask him what it meant, if anything. Or was it as simple as he said?
He saw the spot of wetness on my panties, and he wanted to get off.
I could be another of his women. Or worse. A regret.
“Thank you,” I say. “When do you want to start?”
“When can you start?”
“I’m not the one acquiring an international media company.”
He laughs in that confident tone, making me think of his smirk and intense blue eyes drinking me in.
“The acquisition is almost over. As long as I don’t do anything wild, we’ll be okay.”
“Isn’t wild sort of your thing?”
Despite my burning cheeks, it’s easier to say stuff like this over the phone than it would be in person.
But then, I pulled down my pants for this man in person and saw him with his pants down.
“Yeah, it is,” he replies. “But it gets me in trouble sometimes.”
I wonder if he’s talking about more than his stunts.
“I get carried away,” he goes on. “And I do things I shouldn’t.”
“It’s not good to have regrets,” I mutter, hating that I have to think of myself like that in relation to him.
“I never regret these things,” he says intensely. “I shouldn’t do them. I know better. But I don’t regret it.”
Are we talking about us? Or am I just wishing too hard?
“We could get started soon,” I say. “What about tomorrow?”
“That sounds perfect.”
We arrange a time, but all the while I’m thinking about the reality of it, the fact of what I’m going to do. Lean down over this man’s naked back, his broad muscles.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to do my work effectively.
My hand might shake too fiercely.
I should tell him to find somebody else.
I don’t. I can’t.
Fine, we’ve only been intimate once.
But I feel addicted already.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Silas
“What am I doing, boy?” I say, scratching Buster behind the ear as I lean down in my chair.
It’s only ten minutes before Lauren’s due to arrive at my apartment, where we’ve scheduled our first session.
It's been over a day since we arranged it, more than twenty-four precious hours which I could’ve spent with my woman.
I’m sitting in my living room, the room seeming large and empty. Maybe it’s thinking about having children with Lauren, always thinking about it, every moment since she walked into my office….
My home is practical, with few personal flourishes, modern and sleek and functional. But it feels somehow soulless when compared to my vision of the future, with happy footsteps running all around us.
With love and happiness and all the things we can never share because it would tear Julian apart.
Buster begins to yap when my cell phone goes off. He’s been more agitated ever since I met Lauren… or felt like I’d met her since it wasn’t our first meeting.
But in another sense, it was….
I’ve never known her as this woman, this angel who won’t stop enthralling me.
It’s Julian. I answer quickly.
I wonder if he knows. But is that rational?
It could be. Lauren might’ve gotten guilty, might’ve told him.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hello, Silas.”
“This sounds serious.” I try for a casual laugh, but it comes out sounding forced, even to myself. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t want to make this call,” he goes on, not mirroring my laughter. “It’s a difficult call for any father to make.”
Deep within, I start spinning up excuses, wondering what I can say to make this better…to make him forgive me for what I did…and also what I was planning to do, at least on some level.
After what happened with Lauren, did I really think inviting her to my apartment would be a good idea?
But it’s all over now.
Julian clearly knows.
I won’t make excuses. I’ll have to face this head-on.
“Silas?”
“I’m here. I can….”
Explain, I’m about to say, but then he cuts in, “I’ve got complete faith in Lauren’s skills. I’ve seen how hard she works, is working, every day. But I need to say this so we avoid trouble further along the line.”