Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Nobody had ever stood up to me before, and it was a new feeling that I wasn’t sure how I felt about.
I’d met all sorts of women and to be honest, they were all the fucking same. They ran after me, sucked up to me, and generally offered everything on a plate in the hope there would be a ring coming in the near future. There was no challenge or fun. They were just willing bodies in my bed. And afterwards, I couldn’t wait to throw them out of the door.
My mother returned at that moment. On her face was the smile she used when trying to be friendly to people she thought were not up to her standard.
“Do you want dessert, mother?” I asked.
“Just coffee for me,” my mother replied.
I turned to Lillian, my face impassive. “Dessert?”
Her eyes flashed with some hidden emotion. Then she smiled, an odd smile and I knew. It was payback time.
“No, thank you, Sir.”
Laughter threatened to burst out of me. Sassy. Very sassy, but two could play this game. “Lillian,” I chided gently, indulgently. “How many times must I tell you? Don’t call me Sir outside the bedroom.”
My mother’s eyes nearly dropped out of her face, and hot color rushed into Lillian’s cheeks as I coolly summoned the waiter.
“You're quite different from the women Maximus has dated in the past,” my mother commented into the awkward silence.
I spoke up fast, my voice hard. “Mother, we talked about this before. Leave it alone.”
I had a feeling that Lillian had reached her limit, and if my mother said one more thing about us being in a relationship, she was going to blurt out the truth, and it kinda suited me to let my mother think I was in a relationship. One less thing for her to nag me about. She had recently gotten it into her head that she was ready for grandchildren. As if it fucking worked that way. I’d never met a woman who had tempted me to take things beyond the bedroom.
“Can't I even have a conversation with your girlfriend?” my mother insisted.
“I think we're done here,” I said, suddenly fed up with the whole situation.
“But we haven't even finished the wine yet, Maximus! You're always in such a rush!” my mother scolded.
I noticed Lillian had a slight smirk on her face, and that irritated me to no end. At that moment, I wanted to reach out, grab her by the back of the neck, and kiss her savagely—so savagely that she would come to work the following day with swollen, bruised lips, and each time she looked at me she'd remember the brutality of my kiss. And never dare provoke me again.
My cock stirred and grew hard.
Hell, why couldn't I stop thinking about how it would feel to fuck her? Lust burned in my brain. I was like a man possessed. I tried to rationalize it out; she was fine alright, but there were many women in the city who were as fine, if not finer.
I didn't understand why I was so obsessed with the idea of having sex with her. Maybe it was the way she had thrust her chin out and stood up to me. She wasn't a doormat like all the other assistants I’d had. You had to admire a woman who could stand up to a tyrant, one who was used to getting his own way all the time.
I shut the file and called for the bill.
My mother looked a bit miffed, but she said nothing. Her driver was waiting for her at the front of the restaurant and I was glad to close the door after her.
While Lillian and I waited for my car to be brought around, she never spoke to me or even looked at me, keeping her gaze firmly on her phone's screen. It shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. I wanted to snatch that phone and violently smash it to the ground.
That would force her to look at me.
Once we were in the car I asked her to input her address into the GPS. As she did so, I noticed her fingers were slim and long, and her nails were well-manicured. I could imagine them scraping my back and digging into my shoulders as I fucked her hard.
My gaze moved from her hands to her thighs. That was the thing about pencil skirts. They ride up. In the heat of the car, I was hit by a fresh wave of her scent. Honey and lavender mingled with something else, something more… musky. At that moment, I would have given a lot for a touch or a lick.
She stared straight in front of her, bristling with suppressed anger.
"What is wrong with you?" I asked.
"Nothing is wrong with me. However, you led me to believe this was a business dinner. I don’t think keeping your mother company and letting her think I’m your girlfriend counts as one."