Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
It goes on and on, but finally, I’m at the door, and there is a doorbell that I push. Cole opens the door almost immediately—looking every bit the sexy businessman barbarian, with his jacket and tie now gone. How could I not want this man? He backs up in silent invitation and allows me to enter. I step forward, onto a dark gray, almost black floor, into a foyer with a dangling light, the spicy, alluring, wonderful scent of Cole everywhere, consuming me the way he consumes me. He shuts the door behind me and I whirl around to face him.
“Lance means nothing to me,” I say, getting right to the point.
“You want to do this right here?” he challenges, his eyes sharp, hard.
“Yes, actually, I do. Because you’re not hearing me. Lance means nothing to me,” I repeat. “When I left him, I felt no regrets. In fact, and it is a fact, I felt more regret turning down your offer of coffee than I did when I left him. I hated the morning I left your hotel room alone. I hated making you stay in the car like you just made me stay in the car.”
“You drew a line in the sand back at your apartment that was pretty damn wide and defined. As in, we fucked. Now we work together. The end.”
“No. No, that is not what I want. I didn’t want you to take me to my apartment or go inside my apartment for what should be obvious reasons.” I hold out my hands. “I didn’t want you at my place. You live here, and I live—you saw where I live.”
“I don’t care where you live.”
“I do,” I say. “I don’t want you to see that part of my life. I really, really didn’t want you to see it when I left that hotel room, but at least now, I have a path forward. But I will not ever be the woman you see as a money grabber or charity case. I won’t. That’s not what I want to be to you. That’s not what I want from you.”
I blink, and he’s dragged me to him, his hand is under my hair, on my neck, and his legs pressed to mine. “What do you want from me?” he demands.
“I want you to kiss me,” I say, desperate for his mouth on my mouth.
“What do you want from me, Lori?”
“I want it to be okay to still want you tomorrow. I want—”
“More,” he says. “That’s the only acceptable answer for me right now. I want you too much for any other option to work for me. It’s all or nothing. Now, finish that sentence. What do you want from me?”
“More,” I whisper. “I do. I want more, so much more.”
His mouth closes down on mine, a crash of passion and demand that is everything I need, and I do need. I didn’t want to, but I do, and I don’t fight it. I tug at his shirt and he tugs at mine. It’s a matter of seconds and I’m shirtless, braless, and pressed against the wall, and I’ve brilliantly managed to get his shirt off. Or maybe he just took it off. I don’t care. He’s closer to naked, and so am I. His fingers tangle in my hair, rough, erotic, and I think of that spanking; of me laying naked across his lap, right at the same moment that he’s tugging at my nipple, and I moan into his mouth.
He responds with a low guttural sound, impatiently working the snap and zipper on my jeans. “Why didn’t I do this while you were still in the damn dress?” he growls, nipping my lip as if punishing me for changing clothes, and then kissing away the pain, until I’m left panting when he’s going down on a knee. His mouth settles on my belly with a lick of his tongue following, where he lingers just long enough to drive me insane. I want his hand, his mouth. I want him inside me.
His hands finally move, sliding under the denim of my jeans, and impatience in his touch again as he drags them down, wraps his arms around my hips and lifts me, freeing my feet. The minute I’m back on the ground, his hands grip my ankles and he licks my clit, sending a wave of sensation through my body, before he’s back on his feet, and I really don’t know how it happens, but his pants are shoved down, and he’s rolling on a condom. Smart, I decide, since I can’t remember how long it takes to be safe on the pill. I didn’t care. I was in a sex-free zone I’m no longer in. Cole cups my backside with one hand, and his fingers of his other hand tighten in my hair. “I don’t share, sweetheart. All or nothing, means it’s all me. That’s where we’re at or there is nothing beyond this fuck.”