Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Afraid of what? Of my anger or of coming close to the crackling temptation between us? I made the right choice ending things where I did. I was on the cliff’s edge of control, ready to tug my pants down and sink my cock deep inside her.
And most likely destroy her friendship with my kid. A friendship that means the world to both of them.
Fuck. Everything’s stacked against me getting what I need. Like trying to do the right thing for Bianca’s sake isn’t difficult enough to live with.
I hold my breath as she opens her door. She’s in workout clothes, which only adds fuel to my raging anger. She knows damn well we have a gym here, yet she’d rather go elsewhere. It’s not the fact of her going somewhere else that bothers me. It’s that she’s doing it to avoid me, and while I can’t blame her, I don’t like it.
She needs to be punished. The mere thought makes all the blood run straight to my cock. It’s hard in seconds, begging to slide deep into her clenching pussy. So tight and sweet. I can’t wait for her to milk me.
Cross that line, and you can’t go back. Break her spirit, and there’s no putting the pieces together. Can you live with that? Can you live with yourself?
Fuck. I’m losing it.
I stare at the screen harder, ignoring my throbbing cock. Look at her, almost tiptoeing to the front door, using the key since her fingerprint hasn’t been programmed into the security system. She’s hiding. Like that’s even possible. Like I couldn’t kick down her door any time I please.
My hand moves over the hard wood of the desk, touching the place where her glistening juices pooled. Juices I need to either taste again or die. But first, to deal with a little girl who honestly believes she can run away from me.
“That’ll be it for tonight,” I decide, pretending my cock isn’t hard as steel under the desk.
Romero makes a big deal of checking the time on his wrist. “Turning over a new leaf? This is the second time this week you’ve called an early night.”
I grind my teeth, trying to keep the beast at bay. “If you must keep working, then do so at your cottage. I want to take the night off and relax.”
“Whatever you want, boss.” He gives me a single nod. Message received. His footfalls echo down the hall in no time, leaving me panting in anticipation of what’s coming.
I’ve spent too many sleepless nights obsessing over what I told myself I could never touch or taste again. Look where it got me. She believes she can escape, that sneaking around is enough to keep me away. I know I was an asshole, but I didn’t expect her to retreat further into herself. No matter the outcome, I refuse to let that happen.
Outrage pushes me from my chair and out the door. My wingtip shoes slap against the floor as I head to the opposite wing. Such a fucking brat. She’s going to get what’s coming to her.
I’m through telling myself it isn’t right. What does it get me, trying to be decent for once? It gives her the idea that it’s possible to avoid me. It’s clear that it’s time to set a few things straight.
My right hand clenches and unclenches in time with my quick stride, aching to be put to use on Bianca’s ripe ass. She won’t make the mistake of avoiding me after tonight.
I pass Tatum’s brightly decorated office on the second floor, then the closed door of the room she uses as a walk-in closet and dressing room. The bedroom comes next, and since she assumes she’ll be alone in this wing, Bianca has left the door open.
How naive, thinking I’ll stick to an unspoken agreement to leave her alone. Like this isn’t my house. Like I can’t come and go as I please. There are so many lessons I’ve neglected to teach her. That ends now.
The shower is running, and light spills across the floor, thanks to the bathroom door being left ajar. Rather than barge in, I take a seat on the edge of the bed in that beam of light and smile to myself when I imagine her surprise turning to dread once she discovers me sitting here.
There she is, humming as she washes up, thinking she got away. Keeping herself from me. Part of me thought she would be stronger. That she would push back and fight against me for what she wanted. She didn’t, though. My rage obliterates all the longing and the guilt and the craving. She thinks she’s in control here, and I can’t forgive that.
The water cuts off, and my anticipation turns into something more urgent. It sets off a throbbing drumbeat in my ears while my cock threatens to break my zipper by the time her towel-clad form appears in the doorway.