Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
I wipe across my sweaty face with the back of my hand. I’m dressed in sweats and a tight tank top. Running has been helping more and more, especially with the stress of my workload. I work after everyone has left for the day, then I come home and work some more. It never stops.
“Atlas…”
He looks my way, pushing off his car and I watch as his eyes rake me over.
“You’re at my house?”
“Yes, I wanted to see if you’ve eaten. Perhaps you’re hungry and want to come out for dinner with me? Casual, of course.” His words take me aback.
“I will need to shower,” I say, indicating to what I’m wearing.
“I’m happy to wait.”
“Umm… yeah, okay.”
I walk past Atlas, and he lets me without touching me. Going inside, I shut the door and quickly shower, then pull on a pair of jeans with a nice shirt. He isn’t dressed up, so I’m guessing its nothing formal.
Just to eat.
Not a date.
Just to eat, I tell myself again while braiding my hair to the side before I walk out the door.
Atlas is waiting, and he looks me up and down. “You always amaze me with how fast you get ready.” He looks to his watch. “Most women take hours, not less than thirty minutes.”
“I can definitely take hours, but I’m hungry,” I say with a shrug. “And you have offered to feed me, right?”
Atlas nods and walks to his car. Opening the passenger door, he holds it for me. “Ladies first.”
“Is that what you call me?” I ask, stopping right in front of him.
Oh, God, he smells good. Too good.
“Yes, you’re always a lady.”
I duck down and slip into his car. He closes the door and walks around to the driver’s side, sliding effortlessly into the seat.
“You saw your sister?” he asks, glancing at me. “How did that go?”
“She’s doing better. I never really thought I would see the day she would do better,” I state.
“I want to try again… with you, if you’re up for it?” he asks, and I hear the nervousness in his voice.
I like knowing I make him nervous. Actually, I probably like it too much.
“Try what?” I ask, confused.
His hands clench around the steering wheel, and I watch them go white.
“Us. You know… you and me.”
“I thought that’s what we’re doing?”
Atlas comes to a stop outside a small restaurant, nothing too over the top, but a cute one none the less.
“I guess.” His hand reaches up and scratches the back of his head. “I mean, that was the intention.”
“You are totally out of your element, aren’t you?” I ask.
Atlas Hyde is never nervous. He’s always overly confident in everything he does. Even in pursuing me.
“Yes.” He glides out of the car and walks around to my door, opening it before I can reach for the handle. Stepping out, I stand next to him. If I took one small footstep closer to him, my head would be on his chest. “But it never takes me long to become comfortable,” he says.
I believe him.
Atlas looks down at our hands, then slides his in mine, clasping our fingers together as he starts walking. He doesn’t look back and doesn’t ask me to follow. My feet move on their own, not wanting to let go of his hand.
Atlas opens the door and finds us a table, not waiting for a waitress.
“You own this place, too?” I ask as he pulls out my seat.
“I do.”
“Is there much around here that you don’t own?” I ask him jokingly.
“Yes, actually, quite a lot. I only own a club and a few restaurants, plus the casino. I once owned a clothing company, but it seems someone who’s more qualified now runs that.”
I smile. How many compliments have I gotten from him in the past? Not many, so when they do come, it’s a nice feeling.
“I haven’t kissed you in months. And the way you’re licking your lips right now in front of me, well, it’s hard to stay on the other side of this table.”
The waiter picks that moment to come over. We order. Well, he orders for me, which I let him. I’m used to him serving me food and making me eat. It’s his thing, and I kind of like it.
“I think I would like it very much for you to kiss me. I have missed your lips as much as you have missed mine,” I tell him.
“Don’t tempt a thirsty man with the possibility of drinking from your fountain.”
“I’m not tempting,” I say. Pushing my chair back, I stride around the table and lean down, letting my lips touch his for the first time in so long. One hand reaches up and captures my face as I kiss him. Our lips are soft at first, then become more demanding as he applies more pressure.