Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I wish it wasn’t just the memory of her and that she was here with me right now. This isn’t a new wish, but somehow, it’s different. I feel like I’m actually getting to know the real Charlotte.
I let the hot water rain down on me while I catch my breath. I think about the last few weeks and my interactions with Charlotte. She’s not the stuck-up woman with the attitude that says I’m better than you that I thought that she was. The only thing I was right about when it comes to Charlotte is that she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Tonight, the way she responded to my touch…. I’m still shocked she let me touch her at all, but my guess is that she didn’t realize what she was doing. She didn’t know that I was now addicted. She didn’t know that she’d awakened the beast inside me, the one that wants her. Only her. If I thought her kisses were potent, I had no idea what it would feel like to have her in my arms, my fingers inside her, and my name on her lips as she lost control.
I want her.
I’ve always wanted her.
I know that I need to tread lightly. I know Charlotte well enough to understand that she’s going to try to push what happened between us under the rug. She’s going to pretend that it never happened, and although I’ll never forget tonight, I need to not push her. Not too far. I need to move us forward without being obvious about it. I have no fucking clue how I’m going to make that happen, but I’m going to give it all that I’ve got. Because at the end of the day, the fact remains the same. I want Charlotte Krause to be mine.
It’s Monday morning, and I barely slept last night. A hundred different scenarios of how today was going to go ran through my mind. I still don’t know what to expect. I have narrowed it down to one of two things. She’s either going to pretend it never happened or tell me that it was a mistake and will never happen again.
I’m not okay with either.
It did happen, and I’m going to fight like hell for it to happen again. Something tells me that this battle is going to be the hardest I’ve faced, but in the end, the victory will be sweet. I refuse to accept anything less. We’ve danced around this for ten years. I’ve misjudged her, and it’s time we get back on the right track. The one that should have started that first day freshman year when she turned me down. I let my ego get in the way, blaming it on hers when I should have fought for what I wanted. I was young, but now I’m older and wiser, and I’m damn certain that she is who I want.
It’s twenty minutes until eight, and her car is already here. I wonder if she had trouble sleeping last night as well. I reached for my phone more times than I care to admit to call or text her, but I stopped myself every single time. I don’t care that I’m early. I’m eager to see her. Grabbing my bag that holds my laptop and the contract, which I pretty much have memorized by this point, I climb out of my car and make my way inside.
“Good morning. How may I help you?” the receptionist greets me.
“I have an appointment with Charlotte,” I tell her.
“You must be Mr. Pennington. She told me she was expecting you. I’ll take you back to the conference room.” She pushes the security button that releases the door, and I walk through, waiting for her to guide me down the hall to the conference room. I don’t bother telling her that I know my way around or that I’m about to be her boss’s boss’s boss. “Here we are.” She smiles kindly. “I’ll let Charlotte know that you’re here.”
“Thank you, Anne,” I say, reading her name tag. She blushes and scurries off down the hallway. Instead of taking a seat in one of the many chairs, with my bag still slung over my shoulder, I move to the window and peer outside. It’s a nice warm day, the sun is shining, and I have a feeling it’s going to be a good one. It has to be. I get to spend the day with her.
“Good morning,” her sweet voice says from behind me.
I take my time turning to face her. “Morning, Charlie girl,” I say softly. I watch as her eyes flash with recognition, and her cheeks pinken just barely, but the color is there as she remembers the last time I called her that.
Her shoulders fall, and she closes her eyes, pulling in a calming breath. “Spencer,” she whispers.