Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“But yours wasn’t,” I murmur. “Elliot never talks about it, but I can tell.”
He grinds his teeth, then nods. “It doesn’t matter. It’s ancient history.”
“I’m always here to talk if you need to,” I tell him.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Maybe not. But I mean it.”
He reaches across the table. I tell myself to withdraw my hand. The moment stretches, seeming to last a long time. I’m going to miss my chance; his fingers touch mine, and a thrum moves through me.
“Thank you,” he says. “It’s okay. It was bad. I won’t lie. But it’s all over now. I’m just happy some people will never know pain like that.”
“It’s good to see the positive in it.”
His grip tightens on mine. “That’s what we do, isn’t it? We both had a rough start in life, but we keep going, always. We put one foot in front of the other. Look at you with college—”
“It’s hardly the same.”
“You could’ve let it get you down,” he says fervently. “You could’ve given up, but you came home and decided you want to put your enthusiasm for words to good use. Already, you’re making a difference in the company. It’s impressive. It means something.”
I should tell him to calm down. He’s getting carried away. But I can’t because I’m getting carried away as well.
“I’m a lowly copywriter,” I tell him. “You’re a CEO who built a company in three years.”
“But the core of what we are, who we are, is the same,” he says fiercely. “That goes beyond any surface-level similarities. It goes beyond sharing a passion for the same kinds of books. This determination, this willingness to keep going, it’s the sort of thing relati—”
I gasp. “Don’t say it.”
“Relationships are built on.” He stares firmly at me.
“Logan…”
“I knew you were special back then, Hardcover,” he says. “When I kissed you, I knew.”
“Logan, seriously…”
But he must be able to hear in my tone that I’m not serious. I don’t want him to stop. There’s too much desire in me. Oh, heck.
Now he’s leaning in. We’re in public. But he’s leaning over the small table and pulling me to my feet.
I tell myself to scream at him to stop. But I don’t want him to. His breath warmly caresses my cheeks and my face, his lips getting closer, closer. We’re almost there: the point of no return. I could stop it.
I don’t.
He grabs my shoulders with a burning hunger, crushing me with a kiss. I couldn’t stop, even if Elliot rushed into the room and yelled at us. I make a moaning noise. Three years of stored-up need bursting out of me. My hands claw against his chest, through his shirt, against his solidness, his… his himness.
But then I push my hands against his chest instead of clinging on.
I push myself away, not because I want to, but because I need to. And that makes me even more confused because, in a steamy moment, I feel like I need him as badly as I need to be as far away from him as I can possibly get.
To make matters worse, he looks hurt and offended by my rejection.
CHAPTER 11
LOGAN
It takes more effort than I can believe not to grab her again. Every inch of my body is hard for her, and some inches are goddamn hard, throbbing, aching.
My length presses against my hands, my tip pulsing as precome leaks out of me. It’s too easy to imagine tearing off those hip-hugging pants and laying her on her back, kissing her neck, passionately biting her as I bring my engorged fullness to her sopping entrance.
“I think I might just eat dinner at home,” she murmurs, not looking at me.
“I…” Know that was a mistake, I almost say. But I want to do it again. I need to do it again. I’ve wanted to do it ever since our first kiss. “I understand,” I force myself to say. “That was a lot. I could say I don’t know where it came from, but that’d be a lie. I’ll go pay the bill, and we’ll leave.”
She bites her lip, her cheeks flushed, her eyes containing a mixture of panic and something else. A desire to keep going, maybe. Walking across the restaurant, I don’t think anybody is looking at me. People are minding their own business. But we’re in public. What was I thinking, taking a risk like that?
I settle the bill, returning to the table. Panic grips me when I realize that Piper isn’t there.
“What?” she says when I find her outside.
“I was worried for a second,” I admit. “I thought you were missing.”
“I just needed some air.”
I opened the passenger door for her, relieved when she offered me a smile—a callback to when she said she didn’t need a Prince Charming. She’s letting me be her prince, at least for now, briefly.