Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
“You look like you could use a shower, boss,” I say, eyeing Zander up and down. “You’re not going to finish up the day like that, are you?”
“You’re right about that,” he laughs. “Bennie dropped a load of gravel from ten feet higher than he was supposed to—sent dust everywhere.”
For some reason, seeing him all filthy like this has me even more turned on than when I saw him in his suit at the club. There’s something so manly about it that just makes me want to jump all over him right here in the lobby.
Not in front of Maggie though…
“You should probably head home and shower,” I say. “Clean off, change, and come back when you’re all freshened up.”
I try to hint at him with my eyes, subtle enough that Maggie won’t notice, that I certainly wouldn’t mind going back to his house with him and joining him for that shower. And of course, being the intelligent man that he is, Zander picks up on my hint and gives me a little smile back.
“You’re probably right, Ali. Maybe I should make you my personal assistant too.” He turns to Maggie. “If any calls from Bankers Concrete come in, forward them to my cell, please.”
“Yes, Mr. Francis.”
“Ali, walk me to my car? I need to speak with you about an HR matter.”
“Of course, sir,” I reply.
I try to look as professional as possible as I walk side by side with Zander through the lobby and out the front door, but it’s hard with my heart pounding in my chest. It’s kind of crazy, and I feel a bit silly that even though we’ve been together – that Zander has taken my virginity – I’m still nervous just walking with him like this. It’s like he’s taking me on our first date or something.
And what is this deep feeling in my stomach that’s been growing since we met? A yearning for him that’s there whenever he’s not around, so strong it’s painful when we’re not together.
Even now as I walk beside him, it’s like mini-explosions going off in every nerve ending all over my body. Like fireworks bursting inside my brain, lighting up every pleasure center I have, and it’s all because of him. What before was an unimaginable pleasure is now simply what I experience whenever he’s with me. It’s simply unbelievable.
“So what is it you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask, my voice low and trembling.
Zander looks down at me, smiling like I’ve just said something idiotic.
“Oh, that?” he chuckles. “Nothing. That was just an excuse to get you out of there. You’re coming home with me, silly. And we’re going to shower together.”
My body flushes with heat and excitement, and I blush as I realize just how stupid I’ve been to have missed something so obvious. I glance back over my shoulder at the door leading back inside.
“But Maggie,” I say. “Won’t she see us leaving together?”
“Don’t worry,” he replies. “I’m parked around the back. And even if she does, who really cares? I’m the boss. I can do what I want. Besides, everyone’s going to find out about us eventually. You’re my girl now, Ali.”
8
Zander
I feel like I’m taking a giant step forward as I lead Ali through the front door of my house and close it behind her. I can picture myself doing this over and over for the rest of my life, and that just warms me right to the core.
My company was the most important thing in my life until I met her, but no longer. Ali has surpassed that by far. I will give her anything she desires, protect her and do anything to make her happy.
Just watching her as she steps inside, gazes up at the foyer of my home, jaw dropped in awe, I can’t help but feel like this the greatest moment of my life. The moment all my accomplishments finally came together, when I could show off this big, lavish, expensive house not to a bunch of guys or business associates or girls I don’t care about who just want me for my money—but to a girl who I actually like and actually likes me for me.
I know that she appreciates it for more than just a symbol of wealth and status, but for what it represents. For all the hard work that it took for me to get it, to get here, and what it says about my character and who I am.
I watch her as she circles the foyer, looking at my paintings and the single large sculpted vase I have on the table in the center of the room that I purchased from an up-and-coming artist a couple years ago. After about a minute, she turns to me and casually shrugs.
“Not bad.” I hold her gaze for a moment, then we both laugh. I rush in, and still covered in dust and grime from today’s job, snatch her up in my arms. She squeals and giggles as I throw her over my shoulder. “Eee! You’re filthy!”