Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I say. “My mother really did teach me manners.”
“And your father taught you to be an asshole, or was that just practice because practice makes perfect? You are pretty perfect at it.”
We round the corner into Battery Park, our private space, and I snag her hand, bending our elbows, and pulling her close. “I’ll save that skill for everyone else.”
“Try,” she says. “Really try.”
“Try?” I ask, halting us beside my building and pulling her in front of me. “What does that mean?”
“It means I know that you push back when you feel like I cross an invisible line. We both know that it’ll happen again.”
“And you’ll push back like you did in the office.”
“I push back because you push back.”
“And now I’m trying to pull you close, baby. You’ll see.” I kiss her. “You’ll see,” I repeat and when I lean in to kiss her my cellphone rings. I grimace. “Of course,” I say.
“It could be Grayson,” she warns.
I nod, reluctantly abandoning the kiss to grab my cell from my pocket, glancing at the caller ID, “Connie,” I say to Carrie to put her mind at ease, holding the door to the building for her, even as I answer the line. “Yes, Connie.”
“Grayson offered you one of his private rentals,” she says as Carrie and I start the walk past security and toward the elevator. “I canceled your hotel and I’m emailing you the rental property details. Additionally, I have a chopper booked for your return Sunday night at seven, but that can be changed. Text me and I’ll handle it. What else do you need?”
“A secretary without an attitude.”
“She’d never survive your all-mightiness,” she says. “Knock ’em dead, but don’t get dead. I’ve always imagined that’s for me to do.” She hangs up.
Carrie and I step into the elevator, I punch in the code and pull Carrie to me. “Grayson offered us one of his private rentals for the night.”
“Us? As in he assumes we’re staying together?”
“I doubt he gave much thought to which bed we’d choose to sleep in, and he won’t unless we start costing him money. He’d much rather us be fucking than fighting. Love not hate, baby, and I’m going to give you every reason not to hate me while we’re there. That’s a promise.” The elevator dings and I kiss her. “Come on.” I take her briefcase from her, and lace my fingers with hers, leading her into the hallway, a rich awareness between us.
“Did you look around my apartment?” I ask as we reach my door.
“You asked me that,” she says. “My answer is the same as it was. I didn’t.”
I give her a curious look. “As in, at all?”
“At all,” she confirms.
I pull her in front of me, leaning her against the door. “Why?”
“Still the same answer, Reid. I didn’t want you to wonder about what I saw or thought. I wanted you to know.”
“You wanted me to know,” I repeat, but I don’t wait for a reply. I open the door, and walk her inside, kicking the door shut, rid myself of our bags, and press her to the wall, my legs framing hers. My hands are on her waist. “Did you want to look around?”
“Very much,” she says, her hand settling on my chest. “But it felt like an invasion of privacy. I waited for the personal tour.”
Any other woman would have been all over my apartment. “You are never what I expect, Carrie.”
“Is that bad or good?”
I cup her face. “Good, baby. Really damn good.” I kiss her and run my hand over her hip, cupping her backside and pulling her to me, a portion of this day coming back to me and not in a good way. “You were right. I did learn to be an asshole from my father, Carrie, but I’m not him and I hate the idea that I made you feel like I did today. I hate the idea that I made you feel what I know my mother felt.”
“Then don’t do it again,” she orders, her hand closing around my tie.
“I won’t. I promise you. I will never make you feel that way again.” I seal the promise with a kiss, and I let her taste how much I mean those words, and I do. Holy fuck, I do. I want this woman. Some part of me needs her, and when she moans and arches into me it’s all I can do to drag my mouth from hers. I squeeze her backside, inhale before releasing her, catching one of her hands with mine. “No more now. Come help me pack.”
“What?” she asks, breathless. “Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“But we—”
“Want to fuck? Yes. We do, but we’re going to wait.”
“Why? I mean we—” Her eyes go wide and her hand goes to my face. “Your head. Oh God. I’m sorry, I—”