Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
For a few seconds, my whole world was the softness of his lips gliding across mine–the hot tease of his tongue sliding into my mouth and swirling against mine. It was the rough, powerful feeling of his hands on my body, making me feel small and completely in his control.
And then he brought both hands down, squeezed my ass–hard–and gave it an audible slap. He pulled back from the kiss and tugged me to his side by my waist, smiling at the bosses and my sister. “I have to apologize,” he said smoothly. “I haven’t seen my Pearly-poo in so long. I just couldn’t stop myself.”
I blinked a few times. Pearly-poo? It felt like reality was rushing back to me in waves, forcing me to replay what just happened through goggles that weren’t fogged by horniness, surprise, and six months without the romantic touch of a man. And holy shit. I’d never been kissed like that. I’d never felt like that from any kind of physical contact. Was it just the element of surprise? Was it knowing he was practically a stranger? Or was it some undiscovered kinky desire to do dirty things in front of other people? I had no idea, but my head was spinning and I’d already missed most of what Dean was saying.
I thought Jonas had said something about how it was no problem and Maxwell had just been glaring.
Alec–in all of his 90’s bad-guy glory–raised his arm and pointed toward a pair of businessmen who were entering the lobby. “Well, as professionally appropriate as this has been, we have some business to take care of, Dean. I hope you’ll excuse us.”
Lizzie gave me a small wave, a smile, and trotted off with the Pollards, leaving me alone with Dean.
I shot him what I hoped was a “what in the ever-living fuck was that” level glare. All my fiery eye power must’ve bounced right off the man, because he just smiled and gave my side a little squeeze. I very nearly pulled his hand away and started a slap fight with him in the middle of the lobby, but I had just enough presence of mind to realize that would be… counterproductive.
“We need to talk,” I said through clenched teeth that might pass for a smile at a distance.
“I hear we’ve been booked in the same room,” Dean countered. “I think we’re going to have plenty of time for talking. All night, actually. Unless you had other plans?” He added that last question with a look so genuine I almost thought he wasn’t just trying to mess with me.
As discreetly as I could, I punched his hard chest and jerked my head sideways. “I’ll see you outside our room. Oh, and that’s my bag,” I jerked a finger toward my bag and stormed off, opting to pound my feet up the stairs instead of bouncing restlessly in the elevator.
I was raging pissed, confused, and worried. But the part I was most upset about was how none of those emotions were rushing through me for the right reasons. I was pissed because that kiss felt like the kind of kiss that changed your life. I was confused because I’d nearly tugged him back into it when he pulled away, consequences be damned. And I was worried, because I’d just been worried about how to successfully fake it for two weeks. Now I had to worry about what happened if one of us started wishing things weren’t fake.
What a freaking mess.
7
DEAN
Pearl stormed off, giving me a spectacular view of her heart-shaped ass in her gray sweatpants. I grinned at her wardrobe. It was full “I’m going to be traveling all day and don’t give a shit what you think of how I look”, from the hoodie to the sweats and all the way down to the minimal makeup and messy ponytail. Some of the people from Pollard were dressed similarly, but most had tried to dress like they would for the office. Suits for the guys and nice blouses and skirts or pants for the women.
Pearl disappeared out of my view, and I was left watching after her with a finger running along my lip. That fucking kiss. If cocks could talk–sometimes, I thought maybe mine could telepathically–mine would be saying “I told you so”. Because from that first moment I saw Pearl, part of me had just wanted to claim her mouth and take her to the nearest lockable door. But if anybody knew where blind physical attraction led, it was me.
I sighed, briefly reflected how I liked that Pearl was willing to dress for comfort over show when she felt like it. Maybe that shouldn’t have seemed like a big deal, but the women I seemed to date would’ve been decked out to impress, travel or not.