Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
KNOCK KNOCK.
And of course there’s a knock at the door.
“What?” I snap.
Mumbled Norwegian is the response.
“Oh god,” Laila says softly, and I look back to her. Her eyes are glazed, a sweet, satisfied smile curving her lips, yet I know that probably won’t last. “Oh god,” she says, straightening up, clarity coming back into her eyes.
There she goes.
I quickly remove my hand. “I guess I got you off either way today.”
She stares at me for a moment, and that’s when I see it.
That wash of regret I knew was coming.
She rubs her lips together, blinking hard, and then quickly does up her jeans. “Fuck,” she swears. “They’re going to know we were doing something in here.”
“So?”
She just shakes her head and pulls her sweater back on. “Come on, we need to go. Get your pants on.”
I’m still painfully hard, but I’m deflating pretty fast thanks to the steely look in her eyes, plus the fact that someone is waiting for us outside. I slip on my pants, shivering at how uncomfortable it feels. At least they’re black and no one can tell in the dim light.
We step outside to see a young dude in tattoos and ear gauges give us a very appreciative look, then head back into the restaurant. Luckily, for Laila’s sake, no one pays us any attention, and we sit back down at our seats.
The fried food is already here.
“Why don’t you eat and finish the wine. I’ll settle the bill,” she says, getting up.
I grab her hand. “Laila. No. Stay.”
“My sweater is soaked.”
“It’s still going to be soaked in an hour too. Let’s just finish the wine and the food.” I don’t let go until she sits back down. “I mean, dear god, I get you off and then you can’t wait to leave.”
“See,” she hisses at me. “Doesn’t feel very nice, does it?”
“Listen, we’re going to need to move past that,” I tell her, spearing the fried klipfisk with a fork. “For both our sakes.”
“Regardless, this was a mistake.”
“You call an orgasm a mistake? That’s sacrilegious.”
She points her fork at me, close enough to make me jerk my head back. “We need to get one thing clear. Whatever happened in there was bound to happen. I realize that now. But it can’t happen again.”
I put my hand on her thigh, dragging it up her jeans. “It could happen right now.”
“James,” she says sharply. “I’m serious. I had a momentary lapse of judgment in there. But that can’t happen again.”
“Why not?”
She looks at me like I have two heads. “Why not? For one, there’s no way I’m going through what we went through before, okay? To sleep with you, to have you turn into an asshole—no thank you. For two, it’s not even allowed.”
“That didn’t stop us before,” I tell her, though Magnus was pretty clear about that on our first day.
“I know. And it should have. Because I like this job, James. Sure, it’s harder than I thought, and I guess…” She trails off, worrying her lip between her teeth. “I guess it gets a little lonely at times being where we are. But I don’t want to lose it. I’m just starting to find my groove. And if we start screwing each other again, one of us is bound to fuck up sooner or later. We’ll get caught. And if it’s not that, well, then you’ll delve right into asshole mode.” She closes her eyes. “I’m already regretting everything.”
Aye, that hurts. I try to ignore the tight feeling in my chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just kissed you. Made you come on my hand. That’s it.”
“It was enough, James,” she says slowly. She looks at me with pleading eyes. “It can’t happen again, so please don’t even try.”
“Your willpower is that weak?” God, please tell me that she finds me as hard to stay away from as I find her.
“It was tonight,” she says. Then she nods at my food. “Eat your klipfisk.”
I take a tentative bite, reeling from everything.
It’s not…bad.
“What is this?” Please don’t say it’s eyeballs.
“Dried salted cod,” she says. “Like bacalao. It’s more popular up north. My grandmother used to make it all the time. She’d even put it on pizza.”
And at the mention of her grandmother, her shoulders drop, and it’s like watching a candle getting snuffed out.
It’s then that I realize what just happened and why. I was thinking too much with my dick to pay attention, but what happened in the restroom wasn’t about us succumbing to lust. At least it wasn’t for her. It was about Laila trying to process what happened with her grandmother. If I had thought about it for even a moment, I would have realized how vulnerable she was. And I wouldn’t have taken advantage of her.
“Hey,” I say to her between chews, swallowing it down. I put my hand over hers, giving it a squeeze. “I know what you’re saying. And I respect that. I won’t try anything anymore, I promise.”