Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Which was why when I opened the door to the back office to put one of the cordless phones on the charger, I didn’t expect anyone to be inside.
I jumped finding Rush. His desk was unusually clear, and he was sitting there staring off into space. “Rush! Sorry. I didn’t think you were here yet.”
His eyes made a slow sweep down my body and an even slower ascent. They snagged on my abundant cleavage on display for long seconds before his gaze met mine. “All dressed up tonight for a reason?”
Shit.
He’d just handed me the perfect opportunity to open the door. I swallowed and tried not to squirm. “Yes.”
Rush’s eyes narrowed. “Date?”
“Maybe.”
His stare was intense. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
My pulse started to race. It was about to happen. Don’t chicken out, Gia. Don’t be a chicken shit all your life.
Rush stood from his desk and walked around it. The office wasn’t very big to begin with, but having him two feet away while I said what I wanted to say made it feel like the walls were closing in on me.
He folded his arms and his jaw ticked. “Who’d you put that slutty outfit on for, Gia?”
I looked down at my feet, took a deep breath, and then met his gaze head on. “You. I wore this outfit for you.”
Rush took a step closer. His face was hard, not giving anything away. “You like to wear skimpy things for me, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“You like to tease me?”
My palms started to sweat. “No. Well, yes. But I don’t want to tease you anymore.”
He tilted his head. “You’re done teasing me?”
“Yes.”
“But you wore that outfit anyway?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t understand the definition of teasing then?”
Spit it out, Gia. Spit it out!
I took one last deep breath. I was either going to hyperventilate or get through this. “Teasing is when you provoke someone with no intention of following through.” I looked into his eyes. “I’d like to follow through. I think you and me…we should have sex.” Now that I’d popped the cork off the bottle, words started to pour out of me. “You don’t do relationships. We’re obviously attracted to each other. Sometimes we get along…although sometimes we fight, too. But it’s summer and…you know…we both have needs. So why not just be fuck buddies?” I cringed after that last part I said, thinking I sounded like a whore. Or Riley. Well…Riley did sleep around a lot. But that was beside the point. Now I couldn’t stop the rambling in my head, much less the rambling of my mouth. Great. Just great.
Rush arched a brow. “Fuck buddies?”
I pinched my come-fuck-me red painted lips shut and nodded.
“You only want to fuck me then? Nothing more?”
I nodded.
“I see.” He stared at me. “Let me get this straight…so we’re clear. You don’t want to date me?”
“No.”
“But you want to fuck me?”
“Yes.”
“So I could say…pop over to your place after work anytime I wanted and maybe eat you out?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“And maybe sometimes you’d give me a blow job.”
“Sure.”
“And I could leave after sex was over? No snuggling or niceties required?”
“That’s right.”
His damn face was so stoic; I had no clue what was going on in that head of his. After another minute-long, intense stare that I almost crumbled under, he walked back behind his desk and took a seat.
“How long do I have?”
“Pardon?”
“To decide and give you my answer to your proposal.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought that far. But I couldn’t torture myself forever. I straightened my spine. “By the end of the night.”
Rush picked up a pen and pulled a piece of paper from a neat pile on the corner of his desk. Beginning to read, he grumbled without looking up. “Go back to fucking work, Gia.”
The rest of that night was tense, to say the least.
I’d catch Rush staring at me while I worked. He wasn’t flirting or anything. In fact, he looked more pissed as the night wore on. It was impossible to know what he was thinking.
Unable to concentrate, I was making mistakes left and right, forgetting to bring menus to the table or leading people to the wrong sections—all of this, of course, under Rush’s watchful eye.
The realization of what I’d done was starting to hit me. Why had I gotten dressed up like this? The man had officially driven me to act crazy. I’d made a fool of myself in front of him—thrown myself at him. That was never the answer to getting a man to want you. That was the opposite of what someone should do.
I’d gotten myself glammed up, made myself look like a slut, even though, deep down, I knew his attraction to me was never the issue; it was that he didn’t want to be with me. Period. He liked messing with me, flirting with me, pushing the limits. But he didn’t actually want to pull the trigger. If he did, it would have happened by now. I had mistaken his alpha male need to protect me for serious interest. I was dead wrong. The man had issues, and I was done with being one of them.