Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
She nods to herself and swirls her drink. I watch her in silence, letting that sink in. We don’t have forever here, and our agreement isn’t designed to go on indefinitely. She’s my personal assistant or secretary or whatever right now—but she won’t be in the foreseeable future, which means I don’t need her and she doesn’t need me.
I keep telling myself that anyway.
This is a marriage of convenience. A business arrangement and nothing more. We both benefit from this, and once our initial agreement comes to an end, I can walk away and never think about her again.
I refuse to let thoughts of having her in my lap as my hand cupped her warm, slick pussy keep infesting my brain. We need to move forward, and I need to figure out how I can get the taste of her lips out of my damn dreams.
“I’ve been thinking about what we’re going to do about Malcolm,” she says quietly, and as she talks, the timer in the kitchen goes off. I grunt in annoyance and she grimaces.
“Bread,” I say, “keep going. What did you decide?”
“It’s just that—”
I get up and head into the kitchen and pull the bread out, dump it into a bowl, and grab the wine bottle to refill out glasses.
“It’s only that—”
I put the bowl down, pour some wine for us both, and start to get the main course ready. It’s finished, cooked by the chef back at the main house, and all I had to do was heat it up.
“Gavino,” she says sharply as I place her finished plate down in front of her. “Will you just sit and listen?”
I go still and frown, narrowing my eyes. “Do you think it’s acceptable to talk to me that way?”
Her neck flushes. “I’m trying to tell you something. You freaking asked me a question, remember?”
I take a breath and slowly let it out before sinking into my seat. “Okay then. Tell me.”
“I’m not going to kill Malcolm.” She blurts it out like it was difficult for her to say and I sit back, eyebrows raised in surprise. I pick up my wine, sip it, wait a beat, and finally, I burst out laughing.
That only pisses her off more, obviously. I mean, she obviously had to work up the courage to yell that at me, and here I am laughing at her for it. I feel bad, I really do, but seriously?
I never once thought she’d murder Malcolm.
Hurt him, sure. Maybe take a steel rod to his knee. But murder?
If I wanted to put a bullet in Malcolm’s head, I’d do it myself. I don’t need a stranger for something like that.
“You’re such a bastard,” she says, slamming her hands down on the table. She shoves her chair back and stands. “You truly are a fucking prick.”
She spins and goes to storm off, but I leap up and chase her down. I catch her wrist before she can disappear out the door and tug her back against me. Her jaw’s clamped down and she’s looking at me like she’d about to slam her knee into my crotch, and I really hope she doesn’t—she might break my fucking half-hard cock.
Touching her does this to me. Even grabbing her wrist makes my body react with pure anticipation.
There’s something about this girl. Maybe it’s the smell of her perfume, or the swell of her breasts beneath her tight tank top, or her perfectly formed shoulders and collarbones, or her lips and eyes, or those cheeks, or fuck—I don’t know. Everything about Jeanie makes me wild with lust and it’s driving me insane. I want it to stop, and I realize the closer I get, the worse it’ll be.
But right now, she’s pressed against my body and I can’t control myself.
“Nothing about this is funny,” she says softly, trying to pull away, but I won’t let her. “I want to leave now.”
“No,” I say and turn her from the door. I push her back against the wall and pin her there tightly. “Listen.”
“Asshole.” She’s breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling, and fuck, I keep glancing down at her body. I want to keep my eyes on hers but her lips are too inviting. “You can’t just restrain me.”
“I never thought you’d kill Malcolm,” I say, leaning forward to brush my mouth against her throat. She grunts in surprise and groans as my tongue finds her earlobe. Holy fuck, that noise is like heaven. It’s a soft whimper, half moan and half groan, like she’s so turned on she can’t help herself, but she wants to try to hide her pleasure “That was never the plan.”
“Then what the hell do you want from me?”
“I want a lot from you, Jeanie,” I whisper and kiss her ear. What am I doing? This is way too far. I kiss her neck, her jawline. “I want to feel that soft, soaking pussy of yours again. I want to hear you moan. I want that whimper you just made again.”