Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“I can’t. I have to watch Tessa’s bag.”
“Tessa’s bag will be fine. If it’s not, I’ll replace everything in it.” I rise. “Come on.”
“She’d never forgive—”
“For God’s sake.” I reach for her hand and tug her behind me.
We walk along the outer edge of the ballroom to the entrance and then through the hallway into the lobby.
“Why did you come here, Braden?”
“I already told you. To keep you from getting into someone else’s bed.”
She tilts her chin upward. “Why is that any of your concern?”
“Because I want you in my bed, Skye. Haven’t I made that clear? And I’m not very good at sharing.”
“What about what I want? Has that occurred to you?”
“You seemed to have a good time in bed with me.” I’m tempted to mention her first orgasm, but I keep that to myself.
She doesn’t reply.
“You’re not denying it,” I prod.
“No, I’m not. The actual act itself was…acceptable.”
I let out a boisterous laugh. Acceptable? Given her responses and reactions, I’d wager it was way more than simply acceptable. I’ve got to hand it to Skye, though. I’ve never met a woman yet who can hurl it back at me as well as she can. I never realized I’d find that trait so attractive.
I finally curb my laughter. “Acceptable? You’re something else, Skye.”
She crosses her arms. “Making fun of me again?”
“No, I’m not, actually. You are a challenge, Skye Manning, and I never back down from a challenge.”
Never have I meant words as much as I mean the ones that just left my mouth. I will have Skye Manning. She will submit to me.
It’s just a matter of when.
“The act itself was acceptable,” I continue. “Are you saying something else about our time together wasn’t acceptable?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I smile. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
She clears her throat. “Fine. I didn’t like how it ended.”
“I seem to recall it ended with both of us climaxing. What was wrong with that?”
“That’s part of the act. The act was acceptable, as I’ve told you. I’m talking about after the act.”
Interesting. I didn’t behave any differently than I ever do when I’m done with sex. I said goodbye and I contacted Christopher to take the woman home.
“I believe you left,” I say.
“That’s not how I’d phrase it. You didn’t say a word to me other than to tell me Christopher would take me home. You left me alone to get dressed—”
“Did you want help dressing?”
She uncrosses her arms and extends her fingers. “Would you let me finish? God.” She pulls her hair off her neck.
Her neck is fabulous—long and creamy and ready for my kisses. “Fine. Go ahead.”
“You kicked me out, Braden. It was…”
“It was what?”
“Humiliating, all right? It was fucking humiliating. I felt…disposable.”
Humiliating? I treat women well. I always have. I leave them satisfied. Every fucking time. Besides, I will never be held responsible for someone else’s feelings. I stopped that long ago.
“I don’t regulate how you feel, Skye. You do.”
She shakes her head and glares at me. Damn, she’s beautiful when she’s angry. All hot and bothered and ready for a good fuck.
But I glare right back at her. No way will I take the blame for how she’s feeling. “I don’t consider you disposable, so why do you?”
She curls her hands into fists. “I don’t consider myself disposable, which is why, Braden, if you want me in your bed so badly, you can’t treat me as if I am. You can’t just kick me out when you’re done.”
“We were both done.”
“Maybe you were,” she says. “Personally, I had several more orgasms left in me.”
Really? I resist the urge to chuckle. Does she truly think I’m that ignorant? That I can’t tell when a woman experiences something she’s never experienced before? She’s young. So young. Eleven years my junior. I need to remember that. She’s not nearly as experienced as I am, and she probably thinks I don’t have a clue that she never climaxed before me.
I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t normally let anyone spend the night at my place.”
True. I don’t. It’s nothing personal. I’m just not wired for a long-term relationship, and the sooner a woman understands that, the better. Allowing a woman to stay the night—to sleep in my bed—sends the wrong signals. It’s not that I don’t want a woman to spend the night. I believe I’d enjoy it—holding her, waking up next to her, fucking her in the morning. Of course I’d enjoy it. But so would she, and she’d continue to want more that I can’t give her.
“Then don’t,” Skye says, her brown eyes glowing. “I won’t go back to bed with you if you’re going to make me leave afterward. Simple as that.”
Fighting words. True fighting words. And if any other woman stood before me and said them, I’d nod, tell her goodbye, and walk away.