Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“We just had sex on the island in your kitchen,” I mumble, exhausted from all the activity. “And the couch. And the floor of the hallway.”
“Mmm.”
“We just desecrated the entire apartment. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Want to do it again?”
Turning onto my stomach, I run my finger down his naked back and he shivers. “Jordan…”
“Mmm.”
“I need to get my business up and running again.”
“It’s going to be winter soon. Wait until spring.”
“People need me. They depend on me for work.”
He faces me, a thoughtful look on his face. “Like Fat Jesus?”
“And Frankie––he has PTSD and can’t hold a steady job…and Tommy.”
“The guy with the attitude?” he says running his hand over my shoulder.
I’m surprised that he remembers Tommy from that day at the job site. Thing is, I don’t know whether it’s a blessing or a problem. My gut tells me to tell him everything––about the debt, why I took this job in the first place––but my heart tells me to keep quiet, to not risk it.
“He’s a friend.”
He pauses, a wary look on his face. “I don’t trust the guy.”
Well, that seals it. It’s definitely a problem. Discussing Tommy with him isn’t going to happen. It’s dead on arrival.
“You don’t have to Jordan, he’s my friend and I’m keeping him.”
He gets quiet again in the same way he would before Cape Cod. “Work for me until spring then I’ll help you get your business up again. Can you do that for me?”
I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But then he leans closer and places a string of kisses down my shoulder and arm and I forget why I shouldn’t.
“Doing what?” I ask and turn onto my back.
He crawls between my legs and whispers in my ears. “I’ll figure something out.”
“We’re going to the Met ballet tomorrow night,” my mans tells me when he walks into the bedroom. Another late night at work, fixing something in the code––don’t ask me what.
“Ballet?” I’m immediately nervous. I mean, ballet? I’m so out of my comfort zone here that I’m starting to sweat just thinking about it.
“Go to Bergdorf Goodman tomorrow morning and get something to wear. A suit or a dress, shoes, a coat to go over it. Nothing flashy.”
I just got my marching orders. He seems intent on making me go. “Why?”
He throws his jacket on the plush velvet lounge chair in his suite, unbuttons his dress shirt and peels it off, leaving him with only his pants hanging low on his hips. I’m momentarily distracted. Sometimes I can’t believe my luck.
“Charity show thrown by one of my first investors. He’ll expect me to be there as a courtesy.”
We haven’t really spoken about what my next move is. I’ve been taking care of him. Going to Staten Island and making arrangements to start renovating my second income property. But I can’t do that much longer with no money. And I can’t stay on his payroll and be his girlfriend. That’s like…wrong in a million ways.
“I’m warning you now. My mother will be there.”
Great. This makes me all the more reluctant to go. “Do I really need to be there?”
He glances up from removing his pants and searches my face. Then he kicks his pants off and approaches the bed. Pushing me back, he gets on top of me and I immediately forget why I should be nervous.
“Yes. Because I need you there.”
“We need to discuss something,” I say as I feel him harden, brushing against me ready to enter. “I guess I should’ve brought this up before…” I pause to gather my courage. “We never use condoms…and you haven’t asked if I’m on the pill.”
“I can’t get you pregnant,” he says matter-of-factly.
I can’t hide my surprise. “What?”
“Chemo. Too much of it. But I froze my sperm…”
“You did?”
He nods. A small smile pulls up one side of his mouth, surprising me once again. “My mother insisted on it.”
There’s so much I want to ask, so much I want to know, but I keep the questions to myself. As much as I want from him, I’ll settle for what he’s willing to give.
“I should’ve told you…” His gaze holds mine. A little doubt there, a little hope. “Is it okay if we don’t use them?”
“It’s okay,” I whisper near his lips. “Now make love to me.”
There’s no more talk after that.
“I’m going to the Met ballet. Pick me out something to wear––nothing flashy,” I tell my best friend. Veronica’s entire face lights up like she just took a hit of the best drug on the planet.
“This is my favorite part of Billionaire and the Nanny. When the shopping spree starts. Sometimes I just skip all the other chapters and go straight to this one,” she says mounting the escalator going up. “Lingerie first.”
“What? No.”
“Hell yes.”
“Cersei will be there tonight.”
“Yo, stop teasing me like that.”