Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Until she trembles all over. “Xavian…what’s happening with us?”
I did more than rock her world. I knocked her off her axis. As I mentally grope for a reply other than I love you, the emergency chime on my phone peals. It’s the ringtone I’ve assigned Bethany.
It’s after one in the morning. If the mom of two kids under age three is calling me now, shit has hit the fan.
She’s seen social media.
Still, I hold Corinne tight. “You okay?”
“I…don’t think so.” She sounds shell-shocked.
That means no. I have to hold her. If everyone in her life has left her, I have to be the one who stays and puts her first.
“Come here.” Slowly, I withdraw from her swollen clasp and ready myself to discard the condom.
Then I realize I never donned one.
My breath abandons my lungs. The world spins around me. I brace myself against the wall as time stands still.
Shit. How did I lose my head? What if Corinne gets pregnant?
Would a baby really be a bad thing?
In the next room, the phone stops ringing, then starts again. Corinne turns to face me, then gasps when semen drips down her inner thigh. Her stare bounces up to me, her mouth stunned open.
“I’m sorry. I lost my head.”
She sinks to the bench, shaken, pressing a hand to her mouth. “I’m in the middle of my cycle.”
That news actually sparks hope, but it’s obvious she doesn’t feel the same.
Fuck.
The phone stops ringing a second time.
“It’s going to be fine.” That’s a promise. I’ll make everything all right…somehow.
She gathers her knees to her chest. Clearly, my words don’t reassure her.
The phone trills again, now sounding more insistent.
“You going to answer that?” she asks.
Does she want me to because she wants space between us? Or because she suspects it’s urgent?
The timing couldn’t be worse.
“I’ll be right back.” I jerk away, clean up, and grab a towel, shoving my way out of the enclosure. Corinne stands slowly, still trembling as I fish out another towel and wrap it around her. “Then we’ll talk this out.”
“How?”
The phone stops ringing, then promptly starts again. I know Bethany. She’s determined. She’ll call all night until I answer.
Since I don’t know what to say to Corinne, I march into my bedroom and I grab the device from the charger. “What’s the matter?”
“You’re actually asking me that? After what you did tonight? I’ve been calling for thirty minutes. The business is melting down, and what the hell are you doing? My guess is getting laid.”
Admitting she’s right would be like setting off a bomb. “Melting down? That’s got to be hyperbolic.”
“It isn’t. Our two biggest clients have already called to ask why you’re making a spectacle and how they’re supposed to take us seriously.”
“What the fuck?” No matter how much of a manwhore I was in the past, they never seemed to care. Then again, I’ve never been this public about my sex life.
“Our name isn’t the best in the financial world, so we have to do everything better, cleaner, and smarter. You all but fucked your fiancée in public!”
Corinne wanders into the room, shivering in her skimpy towel, purse and clothes in hand. Her wince tells me she heard every word Bethany yelled. Damn it.
Unfortunately, my sister isn’t wrong. Despite the strikes against us, Bethany founded our firm to compete against the world’s most venerable financial institutions. She’s trying to project an image of exclusivity and prestige. I shouldn’t have been so reckless.
“But I didn’t,” I assure Bethany. “I’m sorry it affected the firm. I’ll write a formal apology.”
“I’m not convinced that will make any difference. I have three more voicemails from other clients I’m afraid to listen to…”
As my sister recites the damage I’ve done to our brokerage, which we’ve all busted our asses to make a success, I feel horrible. I never wanted to jeopardize the firm, just help Corinne.
Well, and stake my claim on her.
Across the room, she fishes her phone from her little clutch. Within seconds, her face dissolves into pale, blanching horror.
She’s looking at social media. It must be catastrophic. Goddamn it, I have to do damage control. I just don’t know what.
“How can I fix this, Bethany? Should I take a three-month leave?”
She doesn’t answer.
Holy shit. My sister wants more penance than that? “You want me to call off the partnership?”
She sighs.
Then I get the picture. “You want me to fucking resign?”
“You’re my brother, and I love you, but that might have to be something we consider.”
Inside, I turn volcanic. Everything I’ve worked for and helped her build… “You seriously want me gone from the firm?”
Bethany is usually ice-cold when it comes to business. She’s practical, highly intelligent, and rock-solid. Tonight, I hear her voice warble. “It’s not what I want. You saved this business almost singlehandedly when I was a new mom and drowning. I know you and your fiancée love each other, and I don’t care what you two do. But the rest of the world does. Have you even looked online?”