Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
"Granger," I squeak and then clear my throat. "You scared me."
"Sorry, baby doll." He dips his head in that sexy, charming way of his.
"W-what are you doing in here?"
"Hopin' you don't kick my ass," he drawls, pushing away from the door and stepping toward me. His eyes lock with mine, so dark green they make me dizzy. "The spa called. Emma said she can fit you in as soon as you can get there."
"Okay." I lick my lips, nervous as hell.
"I told her you'd be there tomorrow." He takes another step toward me.
"To…what?"
"Tomorrow," he repeats, moving closer. "As in, not today."
I swallow hard, not sure what to think.
Is this a good thing?
Is it a bad thing?
Why is he in my room waiting for me?
Why isn't he naked in my room waiting for me?
"Why tomorrow?" I manage to ask. The question is a mere breath, not at all confident or seductive or any other such thing. I sound as nervous as I feel.
"You don't want to go out with the accountant tonight, Arwen," he says, taking another step toward me. He's so close; all I'd have to do is lean forward an inch, and I'd be in his arms. He reaches out and tilts my face up with a finger beneath my chin. "The accountant doesn't know what you want."
The wicked, devilish look in his eyes is exactly how I imagine he looks at me when Tex is whispering to me over the phone.
"He doesn't?"
Granger shakes his head, silent.
"What―" I have to clear my throat to force out sound. "What are you doing in here?"
"I talked to Autumn."
"Autumn," I repeat.
"I'm not stalking you," he says, his green eyes burning with sincerity.
"Okay…?" My heart pounds double time now. I'm half afraid of where this conversation seems to be heading and half ready to scream in triumph at where I hope it's headed.
"I heard you talking to her and Lola my first day here," Granger murmurs, still cupping my chin lightly in his hand, forcing me to look at him. "You were tellin' them how nervous you were about your new job, and how you didn't think you'd be any good at it since you're still a virgin."
Oh God, he heard that?
"You sounded so nervous and looked so fucking perfect," he whispers. "The thought of some other man giving you that first sexual experience made me crazy, little one. I wanted it to be me so fuckin' bad." He swallows hard. "So I called you."
Relief pours through me in a flood, weakening my knees. I have to lock them to remain upright.
"You asked for my name, and I realized how bad it would sound if I told you who I really was, so I made up a name."
"Wh–what name?" I ask even though I already know.
"Tex," he states.
Blood rushes in my ears at his confirmation. He's really Tex.
"I told myself I was only going to call you once," he continues before I manage to put thoughts together in anything resembling a cohesive manner. "But I was lyin' to myself, Arwen. I tried to stop after that first night, but I couldn't let anyone else talk to you like that."
"Why not?" I whisper.
"Because I'm crazy about you, little one." His eyes glow with sincerity and with something darker. Possession. Jealousy. "When I saw you glowing the next morning, I knew I couldn't let anyone else be the reason for that. It had to be me. So I called again. And I kept callin'."
I open my mouth and then snap it closed, not a single word coming to mind. He's stolen all of them. My heart pounds against my breastbone, butterflies dancing a ballet in my stomach.
"I fucking love being the reason you have that look in your eye every day." He swallows hard. "I should have told you the truth. I'm an asshole for not telling you the truth. I didn't want you to hate me."
"I don't hate you," I whisper. How can I? Every single night, he made it about me. I'm not sure he if ever even allowed himself to orgasm from our calls. If so, I never heard him. He was always focused on pleasing me.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but you should know I don't regret callin' you." He blows out a breath. "If you want to kick my ass for it, I won't stop you."
"I don't want that," I say, quickly shaking my head. I want him. Short of throwing myself into his arms, I'm not sure how to tell him that, though. I've never had a hard time finding words, but this is different. Granger is different.
"You're not mad?"
I shake my head, completely mute.
He searches my face, his brows furrowed, eyes narrowed and focused. Whatever he finds in my expression seems to reassure him. His eyes darken, his rigid stance loosening.