Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Turning her back on him, she walked across the room toward the collection of whiteboards. Livingston followed. He noted she dropped the contract on the edge of a table without stopping.
She stopped before the one closest to the corner, uncapped a marker and reached over her head to write something on the top of the board. What she wrote he couldn’t tell because all he could see was the small tattoo on her lower right hip when it slid into view at the waistband of her worn shorts. Delicate. Small. Powerful. Elegant S shapes crossing to make—what he had looked up after their night together—a Soul Sister tattoo.
Head spinning, heart thumping, throat drier than the Sahara, he gulped. He’d seen that exact tattoo on someone before. One woman, in that exact place. His one-night stand in Seattle. A woman he only knew as Peach, a name he’d given her after tasting her lips the first time.
Holy fuck!
Daisy paused in her writing on the board, noticing in the window’s reflection the taut figure of her temporary boss. Was that what he was? She still wasn’t sure he had hired her, so yes? Either way, he stood so stiff she wasn’t sure he was okay.
If she were smart, she would tell him to get out and review the contract. She wasn’t worried about him not paying, Gareth vouched for him. Even said, although the man is a grumpy asshole, he won’t stiff you on being paid.
Settling back down on her heels, she capped the light blue marker she’d been notating with and turned to face him.
“Mr. Rhodes? Are you okay?”
The man had paled visibly beneath his tan skin. He’d clenched his jaw so hard she could see the tense lines in his neck as he strained.
Shit. Was he having a heart attack? Stroke? Mental breakdown? She rolled her lower lip in her teeth and made a decision. She leaned in his direction.
Her movement snapped him from his non-seeing stage, for he looked at her. Directly in her eyes. Then growled. Seriously growled. The man began prowling toward her and she gulped before stepping back. Daisy maneuvered around the board closest to her, dropped the pen and noticed it roll to the floor but she kept moving until the large window at her back prevented her from going anywhere else.
The cold glass touched her lower back and she hissed in response. Her thin shorts weren’t much of a barrier between her and the icy chill. But that wasn’t what held her attention. No, it was the pursuer whose expression grew more thunderous with each step.
“Did you know?”
Mind racing, she tried to figure out what he was talking about. Xandra had said he was a gruff man but wouldn’t hurt her. Which was good, otherwise she would be giving in to the fear currently crawling up her body.
“Did I know what?”
He caged her in, his large physique blocking the majority of light, low as it had been, from the room. His enticing scent wove around her, plucking on her already taut nerves. She’d accepted that he was a weakness of hers when she’d realized who he was. This, right here, wasn’t helping her stay strong.
Livingston braced his hands on the glass, bringing his heat closer still, and it did come. Winding around her, combating the cold at her back. That thread of dark earthy scent with a hit of woodsy and a light bite of citrus teased her senses.
Her body remembered. Even if she’d struggled to convince herself to forget.
Nipples pushed tight against her shirt and she didn’t doubt if he looked—and he was—he could see them. Easily. Her core clenched and it took all she had not to squeeze her thighs together. She curved her fingers into her palms to keep from touching him. Man, did she want to touch.
“Did you know?” He wedged a leg between hers, his thick, powerful thigh pushing her up on her toes.
Her gasp of desire nearly slid free but she swallowed it back. She shifted on his leg and watched the gray of his eyes become molten.
More, her body clamored. Just a bit more and she could find the release she craved. It didn’t matter if it came on his leg, her humping it like she was a whore working it just to get him off. She would do it. For herself.
“Answer me, Peach. Did you know I was the man who you treated like your own sexual playground? The one who watched you get off on his cock like it was your favorite toy? The one who gripped these hips as I stroked deep into you, making your back arch and all that lovely screaming, begging and moaning fall from your mouth? A mouth I loved seeing stretched over my dick while I held a fistful of your hair in my hand as you knelt on the floor before me. Did—you—know?”