Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
He laughs one of his masculine laughs, the same amusement in his eyes etched in the depths of that roughened-up and sexy rumble. He sits up right in front of me, catches my hips under the blanket, and stares up at me. “What’s your new and improved plan since the first one failed?”
I’m ridiculously aware of his hands on my body, memories of all the places he touched me last night, sliding far too easily into my thoughts. But daylight brings reality, and reality brings truth I don’t have to offer him. I tell myself he doesn’t really care anyway. This, right here, right now, is just an extension of a one-night stand to him, but fear niggles at me over just how easily this man could ruin my chances with the department store. And as logical as his pep talk about being a brand of my own last night, I need time to think. I need a chance to survive this night with him, to have that even become an option. “I have a flight to catch,” I whisper.
“What time?”
“I can’t remember,” I say, which is true, but it’s not now, as my panic indicates. It’s afternoon. But then, I don’t know the time at all. “What time is it now?”
“Eight in the morning.”
Technically a long time until my flight, but then, the airport isn’t nearby, and traffic could be in play, and—maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe he needs to leave sooner than later. “When is your flight?” I ask, when I think he told me he’s staying an extra day. The stuff in between orgasms that’s hard to remember clearly.
“Whenever I want it to be,” he replies.
In other words, he owns a private jet. I barely afforded commercial coach. We are from such different worlds, and somehow, considering his past with my father and his role with the department store I’m pitching to, those worlds have collided in some way, shape, or form, not once but twice. Business and pleasure do not mix, and I should not be here.
“I need to leave,” I say.
“You keep saying that. And I keep telling you the same thing. I don’t want you to leave.” He catches the blanket and tugs it open, leaning in to kiss my belly. All the adrenaline I’ve used up on nerves, shoots through me in an entirely different way. My nipples pucker. My sex clenches. My body is on fire. His eyes lift to mine, and he says, “I owe you. I haven’t even come close to kissing you all over.”
He's right.
He kind of does owe me.
His cellphone rings in his pants, and he groans. “That’s going to be the pilot I have on standby. He gets prickly if I don’t give him a timeline. When is your flight?”
“I—this afternoon.”
“Are you flying direct to Denver?”
“No. I had trouble getting a flight. I’m kind of flying all over the place to get home. Why?”
“Well then, I can make it easy on you. I’ll fly home.” His cell stops ringing, and he pushes to his feet and kisses me. “Give me a minute to talk to him, and I’ll order us some breakfast.”
The room is spinning. He wants to fly me home? What is happening right now? I’m still trying to recover from this offer when he brushes my hair from my eyes in a tender sweep of his gentle fingers. “God, you’re beautiful, Zoey.” With that, he steps away from me, leaving me mentally doubled over.
The name is what does me in. In morning light, the lie that is my identity feels much more dramatic than it did last night, and I’m ready to run and run fast. I have no shame. “I need to go to the bathroom,” I say as he reaches for his phone.
He doesn’t seem to give the announcement much thought, thankfully, as he’s pulling on his own pants.
I snatch up my clothes, and he’s still on his call as I dart away. I’m out of breath when I reach the bathroom, and pull on my clothes. I draw in a breath. It’s time to escape, as in now or never, and I don’t know why I’m hesitating. Some part of me feels deep regret at simply leaving Ethan with no goodbye, but it’s not like I’m leaving my Prince Charming or future husband behind.
We were a one-night stand, and a dangerous one at that. He could ruin my future, perhaps even beyond his own department store. I touch my lips where he’s so feverishly kissed me, and then just force myself to act. I open the door, glance in the hallway, and the sound of his voice on the phone lifts in the air. I dart right and take off down the hallway. A few minutes later, with my heart in my throat, I step on the elevator and punch in my floor.