Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
“Sorry about that,” Faith says, breaking the tense silence. “I’m not usually so clumsy.”
“Right…” Tom murmurs in response, glancing between the two of us.
He opens his mouth as though he’s going to ask something, and I can’t risk that.
“Apologies for overstaying our time,” I say, my voice smooth and professional as though we haven’t just been caught, as I stride towards the door. He has to move out of the way for Faith and me to rush through, clutching a file to his chest like he’s worried her ‘clumsiness’ is contagious. “We had a lot to work through.”
Without another word, I subtly nudge Faith and walk away down the hall, her hot on my heels and Tom’s stare burning a hole into my back. Goddamn, I really don’t like that man.
I hear the meeting room door close behind us and quickly glance around to make sure nobody else is lingering within earshot.
“Text me your address and be ready at seven tonight,” I tell Faith, thoroughly enjoying the way her eyes widen and her pink lips pop open. Her pupils are still blown out, and if I could, I’d throw her over my shoulder and take us both home right fucking now.
“What? Why?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
I grin, stepping close to her so she has to tip her head back to look up at me. “Because I’m not done with you yet,” I say. “Fuck, baby, I don’t think I ever will be.”
She smirks, and my heart tries to throw itself out of my chest with how hard it beats for her. “Oh really? And if I don’t follow your instructions?”
A smirk takes over my face as I pretend to think about it. “Well, then you might not get the budget you need for that campaign,” I answer teasingly, ensuring my tone implies the fact that I’m not serious. I’ll give her whatever the fuck she wants if she so much as bats those lashes at me, but teasing her back is so much fun.
With a wink, I turn on my heel and walk away, just in time to see a colleague walk in our direction. I greet them as though I didn’t just have my fingers buried in my dream girl and my head isn’t filled with all the filthy things I want to do to her later tonight.
I can’t wait.
4
FAITH
It’s nearly impossible to focus on work for the rest of the day. My mind is so preoccupied that I water the same plant on my desk three times and have to drain it over the kitchen sink so I don’t kill it. I would one hundred percent blame Ford for the death of one of my plant babies, and the thought of him smirking and teasing me about it does nothing to help the butterflies fluttering excitedly around in my stomach.
Even one of my team members, Kelly, comments that I seem out of sorts, and I have to laugh and say I didn’t sleep well last night to play it off. On the bright side, the lie means she buys me my favorite coffee to help me feel better, which is so lovely it momentarily distracts me from the events in the meeting room earlier. I value having a good relationship with all those on my team, and in times like this, where I’m more distracted than I’ve ever been, it means that they cut me some slack. Thank God, because I’ve been reviewing the same outline for the past hour but am no further on with making notes on it like I should be.
Ford has achieved something no other man has done in years, hell, in perhaps my whole life—he’s successfully distracted me from my work.
Worse, perhaps, is the dawning realization that all the time I’ve spent absolutely convinced that I detested Ford was actually just time spent lying to myself. Because now, after what happened between us, it seems glaringly obvious that I never really hated him at all.
In actual fact, all those feelings were just pent-up desire. Desire that I refused to let myself even acknowledge until I couldn’t physically ignore it anymore. And now that it’s been unleashed, I feel like it’s taking over my whole, entire being.
At lunch, I frantically text Natalie—actually Natalie this time—and explain everything that happened this morning, unable to process it by myself anymore. She immediately calls me and, like I knew she would, starts demanding all the details.
“Oh my God, Faith!” she screams down the phone, so loud I have to hold it away from my ear. “This is the most exciting thing you’ve told me in years. Oh my God, I need to know everything. Fill me in!”
I laugh at her. Natalie’s right; I spend a lot of time working and furthering my career and not a lot of time out socializing or meeting guys. Ford is the first man ever to make me feel like this.