Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
It wasn’t a threat.
It was a promise, and I wanted nothing more than to call his bluff, but I was too shocked to form the words.
“Then I will push my cock into your tight entrance and pound into you until you scream for mercy. Is that understood, Ms. Carmichael?”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, not sure where those words came from.
I had never called anyone “sir” in a heated moment before. I had never gotten turned on by being manhandled by my boss, either. I was also positive I had never been this close to coming just from someone giving my breasts attention.
“Good girl,” he rasped in my ear before sliding his fingers in my hair tight enough to force my head back before he pulled my lips to his in a scorching kiss.
His kiss was like him: direct, challenging, and punishing all at the same time.
Parting my lips for him, I melted into his body.
I wanted to fight him.
I wanted to shove him off me and threaten him right back.
I wanted to tell him it would be a cold day in hell before I let him touch me again, and that I was a professional paralegal who expected to be treated with respect in his office.
I wanted all of this.
The problem was, in that moment, I wanted him more.
Wanted his kiss. Wanted his rough hands. Wanted his dirty words.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t give a damn about my career or my reputation.
I just needed his touch, now. Nothing else mattered.
His hand crept down to my throat and held me against the wall as he ripped his lips from mine.
Mr. Astrid looked at me with narrowed eyes. His lips were stained with my lipstick, a shade of red appropriately called Inappropriate. Which couldn’t have been more on the nose than if it had been called Bad Life Choices.
He bared his teeth as he wrapped his hands around my upper arms. “Dammit… we can’t do this here. Not in the office during the day.”
Startled by his abrupt change, my eyes went to the massive mirror to the side, and I looked at my reflection.
I looked like a call girl, and a cheap one at that.
It jarred me like nothing else.
Was I really about to throw away so much effort and investment in myself? The hours studying and working on getting here so I could afford to take the LSAT and get into law school?
If this got out, it would destroy my career before I even applied.
He would survive the scandal. For him, it would be chalked up to an ill-advised indiscretion and brushed under the rug as boys will be boys.
I would be ruined, though. Just another woman trying to sleep her way to the middle or, worse, a dumb, low-class slut who didn’t belong in an office or a courtroom.
This could not happen.
A box of tissues sat on the corner of the counter. I grabbed a few, handed them to him, and motioned to his face.
He looked in the mirror and cleaned up the red smear.
Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, I slipped around him and snatched my replacement blouse from its hanger. With my back turned to him, I shoved my hands through the sleeves.
His arm wrapped around my middle to pull me close. There was no mistaking the press of his hard cock against my lower back.
His tongue flicked my earlobe. “We need to work late tonight. We’ll finish this later, after hours.”
With a twist of my hips, I loosened his grip enough to swing the door open and step into his office.
After buttoning my blouse, I tucked it in and straightened my skirt. Throwing my shoulders back, I turned and said, “The only thing I will be finishing off is your briefs.”
The corner of his mouth lifting, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder against the door jamb.
The embarrassed blush on my cheeks moved down my neck as I momentarily closed my eyes. “I meant your legal briefs. Despite our unconventional start, I have every intention of keeping this professional from this moment forward. I trust you will do the same.”
His gaze ran over me before he quoted Lord Byron in response. “‘We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive.’”
Before I could respond, we were interrupted by the hard clack of a pair of office-inappropriate designer high heels.
CHAPTER 8
HARRISON
She turned and literally ran for my office door.
I lunged for her, intent on pulling her back, but she was over the threshold too quickly.
Several heads popped up to stare as I ground out, “Eddie, get back here!”
A hush seemed to fall over the entire office.
Eddie slid behind her desk and stared primly back at me, lips thinned, practically daring me to come and get her. Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, sir? Was there something you needed?”