Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Nico Ulrich,” I said.
“It’s me,” Harper said quickly, and I blinked in surprise.
“You need more pictures, don’t you?” I teased.
Harper giggled, utterly shocking me. It was such a girlish, kitten-like noise – so totally unlike her.
And so totally adorable that it almost made me hard on the spot. In the years that I’d known Harper – if you could really count the years she’d been in Boston, at least – I’d never known Harper to giggle. Laugh drily, maybe, but definitely not giggle.
It made me think that she was being playful, that she was being up to no good.
And goddamn, I liked it.
“This isn’t about work,” she said after a breathy pause.
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “Then why are you calling me?”
“Don’t make me regret this,” Harper said breezily, already back to her confident self. “As a matter of fact, I’m calling because I have an appointment.”
My brow furrowed in confusion – what the hell was she talking about now? She’d said that it wasn’t about work, but she had to be referring to something to do with HAUTESCENE.
Didn’t she?
“I see,” I replied.
“With your desk,” Harper said, and I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was smiling like a cat. “At lunchtime tomorrow.”
Then, just like that, she hung up and I stared down at my phone, grinning.
I’d always appreciated the way Harper took charge – the way she didn’t let anyone walk all over her. I was more than okay with it: after all, I was used to women (and men for that matter) who let me boss them around and make all the decisions.
Even though I was very dominant in bed, I liked that Harper was willing to match me evenly and assert herself. Her confidence was sexier than the filmiest, raunchiest lingerie, and I fucking loved it.
Plus, it was huge that she had called and invited herself over. That meant that she really wanted to try to make things work with me.
At least, that’s what I hoped. Maybe Harper was finally ready to sit down with me and discuss our relationship like adults. Maybe she’d decided that she wanted me, that she couldn’t live without me, that I occupied just as much space in her mind as she occupied in mine.
At any rate, it was somewhere to start, and I eagerly looked forward to seeing her the next day.
Besides – I’d always had a soft spot for her and my desk together. Still grinning, I opened my bottom drawer and spotted the pair of panties she’d left behind all those years ago.
Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon flew by. I was buried with work and Portia had to stick her head in my office twice to remind me that I had drinks with Clint scheduled for seven-thirty that evening. I worked until seven twenty-five on the dot and then rushed down to the bar that was attached to a restaurant on the ground floor of the building. This bar in particular was often frequented by local athletes, and I liked going there because it made me look relatable. I’d met more than one client from sitting at the bar with a pitcher of beer and shooting the shit.
Clint – and a pitcher of Miller Lite – had been waiting for me for a few minutes as I sat down on the stool next to his and gratefully took the drink.
“Thanks, man,” I said. “Today was fucking insane.”
Clint nodded, then grinned. “Busiest time of the year,” he replied. “I fuckin’ love it.”
“Me, too,” I said. But even then, my mind was still on Harper. It must have been fairly obvious because Clint cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at me.
“What’s up?” Clint asked. “Something’s on your mind,” he added.
I shrugged.
“Man, you’re so checked out,” Clint continued.
“I’m not,” I said defensively. “I’m seeing Harper tomorrow, that’s all.”
“Oh yeah?” Clint took a huge swig of beer, then grinned wolfishly at me. “Like a date? Or just a fuck?”
Inwardly, I groaned. How huge of a pussy would I be if I admitted that I hoped it was the former instead of the latter? Not that Harper wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but goddamn, I was interested in so much more than just her body.
“I’m guessing you don’t know,” Clint said, and I rolled my eyes at the knowledge that I was apparently far more transparent than I wanted to be.
“Eh,” I muttered. I didn’t want Clint knowing just how much I wanted this girl – how I was falling so fucking hard for her that I couldn’t stand it. I hated the image of her just coming over for sex and then leaving, leaving me uncertain, leaving me wracked with confusion over her true feelings.
It’s gotta be more than just sex, I told myself. She wouldn’t have called if she didn’t want me.