Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
For a split second, I consider not pulling out and filling her with my seed. The vision of her round with my baby flashes before my eyes, but I can’t do that to her. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I knew going into this that we could never be more. She made it clear, and I have to respect it even if I hate it.
So, when my balls tighten, despite wishing I could coat her walls with my cum, I pull out and jerk myself off. Ribbons of white splatter onto her pert ass, and I take a moment to memorize the way she looks—perfectly fucked.
She dips her head and tilts it back so her satiated green eyes meet mine, and my heart squeezes in my chest because I know this is where our story ends.
And, fuck, does that suck.
“Mr. Bradford, I don’t think it’s possible to—”
“Don’t tell me it’s impossible. Everything is possible. You just have to find a way, and if you can’t, I’ll find someone who can.”
I hang up and slam my phone on the desk, refusing to look at Nolan, who’s no doubt staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. And he wouldn’t be wrong. I have.
I never raise my voice. It doesn’t matter how mad I get, how fucked up shit gets, I always handle it like a professional. But right now, I’m not myself.
It’s been twelve hours since Paige and I arrived at the hotel and said our goodbyes. She’s here until Monday morning, but I didn’t ask to see her again because I could see it in her eyes that it would be too hard.
But now, I can’t stop thinking about her. Wondering how she’s doing. She had to go to the wedding rehearsal and then dinner, where her asshole ex would be. He’d texted her to let her know that he’d be bringing his new girlfriend to the dinner and wanted to give her a heads-up so she wasn’t blindsided.
I wanted to offer to go with her, suggest she bail on the wedding and we could go somewhere else, anywhere else, but I kept my mouth shut because she was determined to see that stupid fucking wedding through.
So, instead, in the lobby, in front of the elevator, I kissed her, selfishly needing one last taste, and then wished her the best.
And then I went up to my room and tried to work. Only instead, I’m yelling at people and thinking about Paige.
“Maybe you should head back early,” Nolan suggests. “I can handle things here.”
I appreciate his offer, but the thought of leaving before Paige tears me apart.
“I’m going to get a drink at the bar.”
I need some air. And secretly, I’m hoping maybe I’ll run into Paige. It’s a long shot, but we are staying at the same hotel, so anything’s possible.
When I get down to the bar, it’s busy since it’s a Friday night, and almost all the seats are taken. I’m about to head back up to my room, not wanting to be around other people, when brown hair with blonde highlights catches my attention. I would recognize that hair anywhere.
I move to the side so I can get a better look at her just in time to see her tilt her head back and down a shot. She slams it on the bar top and then grabs another, swallowing it in one go.
I should walk away, leave her alone, because we already said our goodbyes…but then a gentleman walks over to her, and I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I can see the sleazy expression on his face.
I’m going to have a word with the bar manager about letting assholes hit on women who have been drinking. This isn’t a fucking club. It’s an upscale bar in a luxury five-star hotel.
Paige shakes her head and turns her body away from him, making it clear she doesn’t want whatever he’s selling. She downs another shot, and the guy says something else. Another shake of her head, and then she twists her body in the other direction, attempting to leave. Only her foot gets caught on the leg of the barstool to her right, and she trips, her high heel flying off her foot and under the bar.
I rush over to help her, and she looks up at me with glassy eyes. She’s drunk.
“Nate,” she slurs. “Are you here to save me?”
Her smile is wobbly, and my heart sinks. The rehearsal must’ve gone badly.
“I can’t seem to find my shoe,” she says, looking down at her bare foot. “It must be here somewhere.” She tries to bend down to find it, but in her drunken state, she almost falls over.
“C’mon,” I say, guiding her to a chair. “Sit right here, and I’ll get your heel.”
She plops down and smiles softly, and once I know she’s not going to tip over, I go back over to the bar and find her heel. I also notice she left her purse hanging on the back of the chair, so I grab that as well.