Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“You can tell me anything right now,” he murmurs. “After that, I’ll worship the ground you walk on.”
I can’t help but smile. “I’ve never done this before.”
He laughs softly. “Were you a virgin?”
“No, asshole, I mean—you know. A one-night stand.”
“Would you call this a one-night stand?”
“Don’t be a prick.”
He chuckles and kisses my neck. “Don’t worry. I think you’re incredible.”
I shiver and smile. “I’m not worried. Asshole.”
We stay like that for a while longer, but it can’t last forever. The old-me comes back, the Sara with the straight As, the Sara that only cares about making partner and being responsible. I pull up my panties—ruined and worthless, but better than nothing—and adjust my hair.
“You look incredible,” he says as he adjusts himself and studies me. “Nobody will ever guess you just fucked a made man in a supply closet.”
“I knew you were all about the romance.”
He laughs and comes closer. He leans in, but I put a hand against his chest. He pauses, lips inches from mine. “One last kiss,” I say. “And then we’re done.”
His eyes seem to sparkle in the low light. “One last kiss and then we pretend like we’re strangers again.”
“That’s right. One last kiss.”
He leans in and his lips touch mine so gently it kills me. He stays there, drinking me in, and the kiss lasts nearly forever before he finally breaks it off.
“A good kiss to end things on,” he whispers, unlocks the door, and steps out into the hall.
I stand there alone in the supply closet.
I never do things like this, and I’ll never do it again.
But he’s right.
That was one hell of a last kiss.
Chapter 2
Sara
Nine Weeks Later
The top floor of Klein and Houndson smells like disinfectant and leather cleaner. The silence is heavy, almost oppressive—everyone keeps their door closed, and the thick carpet sucks up any personality and conversation like a vacuum.
I lean back in my chair and bump against the wall behind me. The light in my tiny junior office flickers every time I plug my laptop in and it’s a constant game of using it on battery for as long as I can before I give up and accept the headache-inducing strobe. I’m pretty sure I have the smallest office in the entire firm, and the partner that shares a wall with me called it the law closet when I first moved in. That’s guy’s a prick. Actually, most of them are pricks.
A knock at the door makes me bump into the wall again. I curse as I adjust myself. “Come in,” I call out.
Carmine Scavo stands there looking in with a frown. He glances at my filing cabinet, at the single chair in front of my desk, at the total lack of windows, and I’m pretty sure he could stretch out his arms and touch both walls. He’s big, good looking, and sleek in a rich-and-dangerous sort of way, and a smile breaks out across his face. “I have to admit, I imagined something a little more—”
I glare at him. “If you’re about to insult my office, I’ll have you thrown out of here in a second.”
Carmine laughs and closes the door behind him. “I’d never dream of it.”
“Take a seat, Carmine.” I watch him settle in the only chair. My best friend’s husband is the sort of criminal client I’d never let walk through my door, mostly because I do intellectual property and copyright law, and if Brice didn’t love him, I’d never take this meeting.
But Brice does love him, and I love Brice, which means I’m willing to give legal advice to a gangster.
“I haven’t seen you since the wedding,” Carmine says and tries to stretch his legs out but realizes there’s not enough room. I grimace slightly but try not to let him see it. “How are things?”
“Things are fine. Busy with work.” I gesture at the pile of case files. I’m a first-year associate which means I get all the work the higher-ups don’t want. It helps fill out my billable hours but it’s also extremely tedious and distracts from building my own book of business.
“You haven’t been hanging around with Brice much lately.”
I shrug a little and glance away. I’ve been feeling guilty about that. “I’m not seeing much of anyone these days.” Which is true—I’m trying to keep my head above water and haven’t made time for an actual social life since diving into this job.
“You’re that busy, huh?”
“Trying to work my way up in this place.”
He bobs his head from side to side, studying me. “Well, give her a call. She misses you.”
“I will. Did you come here to make me feel shitty about not talking to Brice, or did you have some business you wanted to discuss?”
Carmine’s smile is sharp as he sits up straight. “As a matter of fact, I do have some legal issues I’d like to discuss. But I need to know who I’m speaking with first.”