Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Her gaze floats past my shoulder to the lights of the city beyond. From this vantage point, it looks like they go on forever.
She laughs a little. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Why would you answer the question with another question?”
She mumbles something I can’t quite make out, so I close the distance between us with a few steps.
“I didn’t quite get that,” I say, cupping a hand over my ear.
“I like the view from right here.” She points to the concrete beneath her feet. “Why wander that close to the edge?”
“Because the glass that borders it is a reminder that the edge is a dangerous place.” I hold out a hand to her. “You can come closer to get the full view. Right now, you’re only enjoying part of it.”
With a slight bit of noticeable hesitation, she drops her hand in mine. “Do you like being close to the edge, Saint?”
“We only live once, so I want to experience as much possible.” I squeeze her hand. “If that means taking chances sometimes, I’m all in.”
Her gaze creeps up my chest until our eyes lock. “Taking a chance is harder for some people than others.”
We’ve wandered away from discussing the edge of the roof. She’s dipping a toe into something far more personal than that, so I tread lightly. “Is it harder for you, Calliope?”
Her chin bobs up and down.
“Because of your ex-fiancé?”
I half expect her to bolt toward the door, but she stands her ground. “Yes.”
“You’re scared to take a chance with me,” I state.
It’s not a question. I see the trepidation in her expression. I feel it in the slight tremor in her hand.
“I was engaged to a man like you.” Her hand shakes. “He wasn’t exactly like you, but he was wealthy.”
“One billionaire is not the same as another.”
That brings a smile to her full lips. “He’s a millionaire.”
I swear I feel my chest puff out at that proclamation. I’ve never compared myself to other men, but I want to be a better man in every sense than the asshole she almost married.
“I don’t know what the fuck he did to mess things up with you, but I’m telling you right now that I’m an honest bastard. I won’t string you along or play any games with you.” I reach to cup her cheeks in my hands. “We’ve established that we’re both looking for fun, so let’s have some. No expectations. No bullshit. Just two adults doing what they do best.”
“Doing what they do best?” she echoes, trying to push back a smile.
“I’m great in bed,” I admit. “Something tells me we have that in common.”
Her gaze trails me from head to toe and then back up again. “Something tells me that you’re better than great.”
I lean down to press a kiss to her mouth. “When you’re ready to find out, say the word. I’m yours for the taking, Calliope.”
“When I’m ready, I’ll say the word,” she whispers.
I take her mouth again, but this time I’m greedy. The kiss is slow, intense, and driven by my desperate need to prove how much I want her.
“Okay,” she says the moment our lips part. “I’m saying the word. Or I will on Friday. Maybe we can hang out after work. Do you want to have dinner together again?”
I want to dine on her body now, but I can wait if this is what she needs.
Brushing a strand of her hair from her forehead, I stare into the depths of her beautiful blue eyes. “I want that very much.”
Her face lights up. “I’ll choose the place. It’ll be my treat.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You choose, and it’s my treat.”
She scratches the side of her neck. “I want to treat you.”
I can tell it’s important to her, so I nod. “You’ll treat me.”
“I will.” She gazes past me to the city beyond. “Will you walk me home now, Saint?”
A smile coasts over my lips. “That would be my pleasure.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Callie
“Great news, Callie!”
Before I even turn to look at Delora, I know she’s smiling. I can hear it in her voice. We haven’t worked together for very long, but her moods are telling.
She spent most of yesterday in her office with the door closed. The scowl on her face was evident through the glass wall that gives her unfettered visual access to my co-workers and me.
I spin in my office chair to see her approaching my cubicle. “What’s the news?”
I’m about to glide to my feet, but her hand movement indicates that she wants me to stay put. She backs that up with the next words out of her mouth. “Don’t get up on my account. I want you at your desk, working, so you’re exactly where you need to be.”
I huff out a laugh. “I’ve been sprucing up our socials. I’m not sure if you’ve had a chance to take a peek at those yet.”