Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Book 5 in my Daddy's Girl series
Hot Boss, One bed, Alpha daddy, Office, Boss-Secretary
Drake
I’ve spent years scaling impossible heights, but nothing has prepared me for the challenge that is Ellie White. She’s mouthy, sharp, and absolutely beautiful—a distraction I can’t afford. But no matter how hard I try to ignore it, there’s this pull between us, like gravity. Every time she walks into my office, I’m sure she hates me, and maybe I deserve it. I’m her boss, after all. But deep down, I know she’s mine. The problem is, how do I convince her of that without pushing her away?
Ellie
Working for Drake Evans is like climbing a mountain without ropes—exhilarating but terrifying. He’s gorgeous, famous, and more frustrating than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s also my boss, so I have to keep my cool, even when all I want to do is throw caution to the wind and let him sweep me off my feet. But I’m not some lovestruck fool. I work hard to keep my distance and focus on my job. Then we arrive at the hotel for the climbing conference, and there’s only one bed in the room. Just one bed. How am I supposed to resist him now?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
ELLIE
Ireally, really hate rock climbing. So, as I lie in bed, sliding my hand down the front of my panties with a picture of a rock climber on my phone screen is admittedly a little odd. Maybe even hypocritical.
Then add in the fact that this certain rock climber, Drake Evans, is my boss, and well, let's just say there's a whole lot to unpack here.
But what else am I supposed to do? It's only 9 PM, a relatively early bedtime for a 28-year-old, and I just can't seem to fall asleep. I've got to catch a flight tomorrow afternoon, and I need all the energy I can get to deal with Drake all weekend … and to deal with how much he turns me on and pisses me off in equal shares.
Right now, though, he's not here to annoy the hell out of me, and the image of him coming off the cliffside this afternoon—shirtless and sweating, strolling towards me like I was his salvation—is fresh in my mind. Drake Evans is so gorgeous, so absurdly sexy, that it short-circuits my brain, making me forget myself.
I've seen his shirtless torso before. Of course, I have. I've worked for the man for over a year. And he's not the only rock climber I've seen without a shirt on. I've spent the last two years of my life as the personal assistant to the world's most famous (former) rock climber, and that means spending time around a lot of shirtless guys. None of them compare to Drake, though. Born in New Zealand, Drake moved to Denver, Colorado in his early 20s, already a rising star in the climbing world. He brought with him a sexy accent and an attitude as large as the mountains he climbs.
It's just … usually, I can handle it. But Drake is under my skin tonight, and I can’t seem to shake him.
And I've been in the office too much. That's why this is happening. My brain is starved of endorphins, and that's the only reason why my boss' face is so firmly fixed in my mind. Not just his face, either. The way his fingers felt sliding over mine as he took the chilled smoothie from my hand, the pat on the cheek he gave me in thanks that should have been condescending, but coming from Drake gave me full body shivers.
It makes me forget that he had me drive all over town to find his favorite smoothie. It makes me forget the infuriating way he calls me "my girl". It makes me want him with a ferocity that I, still a virgin at 28, have never felt before.
But he's my boss, a world-famous athlete, and utterly demanding in all the worst ways. He is certainly NOT interested in me, his personal assistant.
This is just to take the edge off. If I can come looking at his picture, imagining his fingers instead of my own, maybe I won't be on the verge of hyperventilating every time I'm near him for the next few days.
I pull his social media page up again and scroll down to the bottom, where the oldest photos are. The casual ones are taken by friends, and his smile is genuine. I start with his body, taking in the strong lines of his legs, his powerful thighs. I scroll up, my gaze catching on his biceps, flexing as he holds himself on the cliff face.
Finally, my eyes find his face. He's mid-laugh, head thrown back, emerald eyes sparkling. His teeth are white, his smile wide. God, his smile. My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow hard.
Dropping the phone on the bed beside me, I let my eyes flutter closed, falling into the fantasy of "what if" from earlier today. In my fantasy, he doesn't take his long-anticipated drink and brush past me. Instead, he throws it aside, pins me against my car, and whispers in my ear, "I'm thirsty for something else."
One hand between my legs and the other sliding up to tweak my own nipple, I let the imaginary scene play out. In my head, Drake's fingers are under my skirt, rubbing the perfect spot, making my knees weak. He presses me harder against the car and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it through the thin cotton of my shirt.
His hand slides into my underwear, and he lets out a low growl when he feels how wet I am.
"God, Ellie, I want you so bad. You're all I can think about," imaginary Drake murmurs. "Tell me you want this. I can't go another day without having you."
My fingers move faster, and my breath hitches as my imagination gives me a glimpse of what Drake would look like above me, his cock thrusting in and out, the muscles of his shoulders bunching and releasing as he pushes himself closer and closer to his orgasm.