Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“I don’t see this as an overreaction,” I say brusquely. “You’ve asked me several times, and I’ve said no every time. I’m not sure why you think this time would be different, but it’s not. I’m going to interview somebody else.”
I interview one of his colleagues on the design team. Her name is Mia. Before I turn on the camera, she mutters, “I’m sorry about Derek. He can be a real ass.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
She gives a good interview with usable footage for sure. The only hitch is that Asher returns from his meeting about halfway through. He strides across the office with long, confident steps. Mia looks up as if she can’t take her eyes off him. Jealousy makes me want to scream.
I push it down and continue my work, but I can’t ignore it.
When I finish the recording, I see Derek has just left Asher’s office. Asher stands at the door, his hands behind his back, his built form filling the frame. His Christmas cheer from yesterday seems to have evaporated.
“Holly,” he calls out to me. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
Derek glares at me as I pack my camera away. I’m also far too aware of Mia ogling Asher. I like her. She gave me some great footage, but her focus on Asher annoys me.
“What’s up?” I say, joining Asher in his office.
He closes the door, meaning he brushes close to me. I can smell his cologne— woodsy with a side of manly musk. Yesterday, when he grabbed my hips, I almost lost it.
“What’s with that Derek guy?”
“What do you mean?”
“He was just in here whining about you recording the video. He said you were being too loud, distracting everyone from their work. Apparently, he asked you to be quiet, and you snapped at him.” Asher smirks. “Somehow, Snowflake, I find that difficult to believe.”
“Oh, God. This is just getting silly now.”
“What is?”
“He’s been asking me out for months. I’ve told him no, but he won’t quit. When I came to record some videos today, he volunteered, but then he got weird about it. I ended the interview. I guess he didn’t take it well.”
“He’s harassing you?” Asher asks, his hands curling into fists.
He looks as jealous as I felt when I saw Mia ogling him.
“I wouldn’t go that far …”
“How else would you describe it?” he counters. “He’s got no right to do that, that bastard. He needs to back off. If you say no, you mean no. What part of that doesn’t he understand?”
I grab Asher’s arm when he rushes toward the door. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think?” he snaps. “I’m going to teach him some manners.”
“What, you’re going to hit him?”
Asher spins to face me. His chest is heaving, smoke practically coming out of his nose. I’ve never seen him this angry before. “You should be able to do your work without some asshole harassing you.”
“This isn’t your choice to make.”
“So, you’re okay with it?”
“No, I’m not,” I sigh, “but I’m handling it. You don’t get to run out there and humiliate me in front of everyone. What will people think if you go out there like this?”
He takes my hand. “What are you saying?”
“Look at you, Asher. They might get the wrong impression,” I say, waving my other hand in his direction.
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re angry because you’re a good guy. You don’t want a member of your team acting inappropriately. I get all that, but if you go out there like this, people will think there’s more going on.”
“Stop dancing around it, Snowflake,” he snaps back.
“Do you need me to spell it out? They’ll think something is going on between us, Asher. So leave it, okay? I can handle this myself.”
I push past him, meaning to open the door and quickly leave. His arm shoots out and wraps around my waist, hauling me to him like yesterday. Only this time, he pushes me against the wall. I gasp when his lips are suddenly on mine.
Is this happening? It’s like a dream.
I know I should stop.
Instead, I slide my hands up his arm and feel his muscles and heat. He groans as our mouths open, my onetime bully kissing me with so much passion that I light up like a Christmas tree. His touch sinks hungrily into my hips.
His manhood pushes against my belly through his pants.
What are we doing? I push against his chest.
“Stop.”
He takes a step back, shuddering. Suddenly, his expression fills with panic.
“Holly—”
“I know.”
“I didn’t plan on doing that.”
“I know,” I whisper, wiping my mouth, wanting to kiss him again but understanding I can’t—ever. “This never happened, Asher.”
“I …” He reaches for my hand but stops halfway. “You’re right. This never happened.” It sounds like it’s difficult for him to push these words out. “Snowflake …”