Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“I’m scared.”
“Do you think he’d hurt you physically? Like beat you?”
As underhanded as his threats are, my gut tells me he’s a protector. “No.”
But emotionally? Sexually? Nathan Price has the power to destroy me.
“You’re braver and stronger than you think. Seriously, blow his mind—and any other part of him you can—in bed. He’ll soften—except his cock. And all the while, you’ll have a cushy place to live. I’d call that a win-win. Roll with it, girl. See what happens.”
“You’re crazy.” But even if that’s true, I don’t have a choice.
Looks like I’ll be at the mercy of my hot, ruthless bastard of a boss for the foreseeable future…
CHAPTER SIX
An hour after my panicked call to Jen, Mr. Price—Nathan—got a text from Mr. Force, our CEO. By nightfall, he was on a plane to Tokyo. Not without seducing me again first, of course.
I tried holding out. I tried clinging to my anger. I tried resisting him.
I failed miserably.
During our night together, he learned my body well. He knew precisely where to touch me and how. He whispered the words I craved and looked at me as if I mattered. And stupidly, I fell for it.
Then, suitcase in hand, he was gone.
Since then, I’ve had four days to scrounge work clothes from Jen’s closet and to think.
My number one takeaway? I can’t be a coward. If he’s crazy enough to force me to marry him, I’ll show him I’m crazy enough to make his life hell. His grudge is with Dad, and I’m not paying for my father’s mistakes with my body or my future. And if Nathan insists on making me miserable, I’ll take him down with me.
Will you? Really?
I hate my inner voice…but I fear it has the better grasp of reality. I melted for Nathan the first time he kissed me. Each time he puts his hands on me, my will to withstand him evaporates. I lose my clothes, spread my legs, and beg him to take me in every filthy-dirty way he wants.
At least the sex will be good in our marriage.
Totally not the point.
I snort and dive back into an email reply to Kate Hennessey-Hunt, keeping up with the work pouring in while Nathan is gone. But I’d rather be busy than fixating on when he’ll be back—and what he’ll expect.
Suddenly, I hear a familiar growl behind me. “My office, Ms. Shay. Now.”
With a startled yelp, I whirl and spot Nathan wearing an impeccable charcoal suit and tearing a path down the hall.
Why does my bosshole have to look so damn good? Why does my traitorous pussy clench with need at the sight of him?
“I’m waiting.” He unlocks his door and holds it wide impatiently.
I’m afraid to ask what he wants.
On wobbly knees, I rise and hustle toward him, ducking under his arm as I enter his private domain. Memories of his touch assail me.
God, he smells good, like amber, sandalwood, and man. That scent reminds me of the orgasms he heaped on me last weekend until I begged him to stop.
He ignored me and kept making me come.
In the middle of the room, I face him and tell myself to focus on business. He shuts and locks the door. As he shrugs out of his suit coat, he crosses the room and brushes past me—detonating tingles through my body—before he hangs the garment on the back of his chair. Then he snares my gaze. His face is impassive, but his eyes… They’re burning. With anger? Desire? Vengeance?
“Come here.”
I raise my chin and force myself across the floor, keeping his desk between us. “Welcome back, Mr. Price. What do you need?”
“Your pussy. Lose that prissy little blouse, along with whatever’s underneath it, lean over my desk, and lift your pretty ass in the air.” He flings off his tie and flicks open the buttons of his crisp, white dress shirt. “Grip the far edge. And no matter what, don’t make a sound.”
Has he lost his mind? “You want to—”
“Fuck you? Yes. It’s been days,” he groans as if our separation has been torture while reaching for the hem of my skirt. “I hope for your sake you didn’t wear panties.”
I did. He hasn’t been here for days, and I didn’t think the text he sent on Monday morning forbidding me to wear anything under my skirts was serious. “I-I…”
“Can’t follow directions? We’ll work on that. Bend. Over. The desk.”
Panic sets in. Everyone will know what we’re doing. “I won’t screw my professional reputation so you can get laid.”
He raises a brow. Why the hell does he have to look so hot and male with his shirt open to his ridged abs and his hard, lickable chest exposed.
Damn it, I’m a responsible adult. My libido should behave like a grown-up, too.
“The longer you stall, the longer people will have to guess what we’re doing behind this door. Tick-tock, Ms. Shay. If you’re quiet when I make you come, no one will be the wiser.”