Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“You?” I cry out softly.
“Am I one of your reasons for staying?”
I’m speechless, which is a good thing because I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I take in a hollow, shaking breath. “I have a great respect for you, sir.”
His mouth twitches into a sour smile. “Sir. You just called me sir. You haven’t called me that in a very long time. In your next job, I hope you remember your manners.”
Ow. Ow. The blows are harder and lower than I thought possible. This fills my lungs with pain.
I’m drowning with each breath.
I can barely speak. “Why are you doing this? Why would you try and get rid of me after everything I’ve done for you?”
“Done for me?” he asks quickly.
“Done for you. Done for the girls.”
“And you’ve done it all because you want to. Why?”
I’m ready to tear my fucking hair out. “Because I care about you! I care about them!”
I love them.
I love you.
Is that what he wants me to say?
Why?
Why?
“And?” he prods, eyes full of fire.
“I know I make you happy, even if you’ll never admit it.” I practically spit the words out, having kept them inside for far too long. “And I’ve never made anyone happy in my entire life. So, yeah. Maybe add that to one of my various reasons, if you have to know.”
“How do you know that you make me happy?”
Oh, seriously?
“What?”
“Tell me,” he says, pushing off the desk and standing right in front of me, gazing down from his height. “How do you know you make me happy?” His words are quieter now, rough and low and they make my stomach flip and my heart ache.
Hell. What do I have to lose at this point?
“Because,” I say, and my voice automatically drops to match his, my eyes focused on his chest, the slice of skin at his shirt collar. The electric storm in the room has moved between us, slowly intensifying with each breath, each heartbeat. Can he even feel it?
“Because what?” he murmurs, and his hand goes to my neck, pushing my hair back over my shoulder, and every pulse and cell in my body freezes from shock.
I blink, absolutely terrified at the power his touch has over me. The fact that my knees want to give way until I’m a puddle on the floor.
All because his fingertips are trailing gently along my neck, up my hair and back.
“Because what?” he says again. “Look at me.”
I obey. I raise my eyes from his shirt to the deep hollow of his neck, to his Adam’s apple, to that sharp jawline, ever so tense. Then his eyes. His eyes are telling me everything I’ve always wanted to hear.
“You do make me happy,” he whispers, and my heart explodes. His voice is ragged, his fingers pressing into my neck just a little more, hot and burning like stars shooting down my spine. “How do I make you feel?”
I should tell him. If he’s firing me, then nothing binds me to him anymore. I can say what I want without consequences.
But love requires that bravery I still don’t have.
His fingers disappear into my hair, making my eyes close, my breath fall from my mouth.
He leans in close, so close, his chest against mine, his forehead rests against my forehead, tip of his nose against my nose. As intimate as lovers, as intimate as we’ve ever been.
“How do I make you feel?” he says again, breathy and slow, his words making me ache. “Show me.”
Everything I’ve ever wanted is within an inch of my lips. All that I’ve dreamed about, all that I’ve rallied against. One inch that would change my life forever.
That one inch between his mouth and mine might as well be a million miles long.
And I am far too afraid to take that step and cross it.
He has all the cards here, all the power.
I won’t do it.
I glance up at him through my lashes. “Make me show you,” I whisper, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him into me. His erection presses into my hip, making me clench with want and need because of how he wants and needs me.
“I can do that,” he says gruffly.
His other hand goes to my cheek, grabbing my face, hot, wide palm against my already feverish skin.
His lips close the gap, crashing into mine.
It takes a moment for it all to sink in.
I’ve never craved something so badly only to get it in the end.
I almost don’t know what to do with it.
But that disappears a second later.
I know exactly what to do.
His lips are warm and soft, his kiss is hard.
It’s driven by pure lust and need.
By months and months of wanting and never getting.
And now I’m giving.
I make fists into his jacket as my body gives way to his, my mouth surrendering to his, his tongue rolling against mine in a feverish, driving pace.