Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Every inch of him was sleek with coiled muscle. Not one mark or blemish existed anywhere on his tan skin. An impressive bulge pushed against the front of his towel and promised a hot night of wet orgasms.
The space overflowed with the seductive scent of expensive soap and male.
He’s not sexy. He’s your boss. You don’t want to slip your hands down his abs. I attempted to focus on anything but him.
Chase stalked over to his desk, picked up both of the coffees I’d brought, and turned to me. “Jasmine, what’s this?”
“Well, I thought I would give you a choice between your old coffee and one I believe you may like much better.”
“Did you put my food likes and dislikes in the binder?” Chase asked Lucy as he took off the lid of the new coffee I bought him and sniffed it.
“Yes.” Lucy scowled at me. “I typed in bold that you expect a large dark roast coffee and wheat bagel from Brew and Bake shop.”
I’d gone down to Brew and Bake as they opened at 6:30am, bought two pairs of coffee and bagel orders for him and me.
One sip of the murky liquid almost made me vomit in my mouth. The bagels were stale and at least a day old. Even worse, the cashier totaled my order at thirty dollars.
Which proves a high price doesn’t always mean better.
I raced to Mama Jane’s Pit, grabbed two regular coffees and her best baked treats.
“So you give me two coffees just in case I want another choice?” Chase raised his eyebrows. “Even though Lucy’s manual is adamant about my coffee preference.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Lucy sighed. “I also explained several times that you hate straying from your usual routine.”
Tattle teller.
He smirked. “So then you think my coffee choice wasn’t appropriate?”
Understatement. It tastes like the bottom of someone’s shoe.
I swallowed. “I just thought you might like the new one, but I promise not to change the order again, in the future.”
He took a sip of Mama Jane’s coffee and closed his eyes. Half a minute passed and I teetered on the edge of nervousness.
“Well. . .very fucking good.” He drank some more. “I should give you a raise.”
Both Lucy and I exhaled.
“What type of coffee is this?
“A regular dark roast,” I admitted. “But I think the problem with Brew and Bake is that they probably don’t change their coffee beans enough or use good quality water. Mama Jane takes on her coffee making as if it’s a science.”
“So Brew and Bake is a crappy coffee shop?” He picked up the brown bag with Mama Jane’s image on the front, opened it, and looked inside.
I checked out his behind as he turned away and then cursed under my breath.
Do not look at the sexy boss in the towel.
I nodded. “Yes. Brew and Bake is a crappy coffee shop.”
Clearing her throat, Lucy turned her attention to her feet.
He dove his hand into the bag. “You do realize my family owns Brew and Bake?”
“N-no, I didn’t realize that.”
Moron. I’ll be fired by the end of the week if I keep making these dumb mistakes.
He pulled out a circular treat from the bag and frowned. “What’s this?”
“It’s a baguffin,” I mumbled.
His lips curled at the edge. “What?”
“It’s Mama Jane’s top breakfast item, a combination of bagel and muffin.” I pointed to it. “This one is called Monkey Bread.”
Lucy snorted.
His lips widened into a huge smile. “Am I to assume this is another alternative to my preferred wheat bagel?”
“Yes.”
“Because you think the bagels are also crap?”
“Yes.”
Might as well dig myself deeper into my already deep hole.
“For some reason. . .I trust you.” He bit into the baguffin, and then took another bite.
I held my breath and waited for a response.
He snatched up the Bake and Brew bag with the wheat bagel and tossed it in the trash.
Two scores for Jasmine.
“Stick with Mama Jane’s for my coffee.” He set the rest of the baguffin on his desk and headed to his office bathroom.
Again, I peeked at his behind and enjoyed the delicious movement of artistically carved muscle as it flexed under the towel.
Okay. That’s absolutely the last peek. No more.
He called out from the bathroom, “Find out how many calories are in the baguffin.”
I raised one finger. “450 calories, 15 grams of fat. Most of it is saturated fat.”
“How do you know that?” He peered halfway out of the doorway.
Oh my. . .
I swear it didn’t look like he had his towel on. A dark patch of silky black hair began inches from his belly as he leaned out.
“Jasmine?” He laughed.
Oh my god!
I snapped my concentration back to his face.
Awesome. I demand that he not sexually harass me and then ogle him on the first day of work.
“How do you know the calories by heart?” he asked. “Excellent memory?”
“No. I count calories so I won’t gain weight. I was a fat kid.” I caught him licking his lips and he turned away. “I only eat half of the baguffin.”