Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Chapter Six
Harley
I fight back tears in the limo, doing my best to look at my phone or out the window so I don’t give away the fact that he just hurt my feelings. Not that he’d notice since he just zoned out on me.
Did I read him wrong in the condo? Was he not marking me as his with the necklace? I guess it’s just business, and he wants me to look like someone he’d bring here. The way he touched me, I could swear he was being so damn possessive, and the comments. It was like the guy in the bar. Seriously, my heart hurts terribly. Try not to flirt with anyone, and act professionally. I’ll remember that. I’m just his assistant, and that’s what I’ll be.
“Sir, we have arrived,” his driver, John, says. I check my phone only to see my reflection, so he doesn’t notice. My makeup is flawless and so is my hair.
“Relax. We can just rush past the cameras and the press.” He steps out and extends his hand. I take it long enough to get out and free myself as soon as I’m on two feet. I swear I heard a growl come from him, but it might be the limo.
“Mr. Hunter. Dylan, can we get a comment from you?” several press members shout from behind the ropes. His men along with event security keep them at bay, but the questions still fly.
His answer is simple. “No.”
“Who is this beauty with you tonight?” Although I don’t have to wonder what he’ll say. He made his point clear before we arrived. Still, I don’t have to wait long for his response.
“My assistant.” I nod, validating his response, and take the steps with him, avoiding his touch as he lightly presses his hand to the small of my back.
We enter the event, and he’s greeted by many people who are insanely eager for his attention. I’m quickly left to my own devices, and I shuffle away from the crowds. I notice how fast they all clamor to him, wanting his undivided attention. There is one actress who can’t take her eyes off him, and I want to hit her in the mouth, but again, it’s not my business.
I’m his assistant only.
Holding on to my pride and dignity, I take a seat at our table when another gentleman comes up to me and sits down. “Hello, beautiful. Dylan selfishly didn’t give me your name. All he said was you were his assistant.” Of course he did. I find his actions rude, because at least he can introduce me. I have a name.
“My name is Harley Dean,” I say with a professional smile. He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth. He’s about to kiss it when Dylan snatches it out of his grasp.
“Harley, a word.” He lifts me out of my chair before I can even reply.
“Yes, Mr. Hunter.” A deep growl rips from his chest.
We make it to a room off the party room. It looks like a private changing room. “What have I told you about calling me Dylan?”
“You also told me to act professional.”
“I meant with them, and I also said not to flirt with them.”
“He was flirting with me. I just gave him my name. You want to act like I’m a servant in the back, then you shouldn’t have brought me with you. Damn it.”
“You’re not a fucking servant. You’re fucking too hot, too sexy, too good for a man like me,” he growls before his mouth lands on mine, kissing me hard and furiously. His hands are quick and rough as they fist my hair, tugging my head back as his lips drag down my throat to the necklace where he places a kiss. He slides lower, pushing the top of my gown off until my breasts are exposed. “God, I’ve wanted these since you popped out of your room with no bra.”
His mouth latches on to one nipple with a mix of biting and sucking, and I can’t control the moaning, breathy sigh coming from my throat. “Oh, Dylan.”
He pops off and stares at me in the face. “Good girl, but I’m not fucking you right here. We have a room for the night, and I’m taking you upstairs.”
“Please,” I whimper. He adjusts my dress and opens the door where one of his guards is standing outside.
We make it to a bank of elevators where another one of his guards is waiting right on cue to take us up. “What the hell?”
“They were waiting for me to lose control all night.”
“Oh.” He carries me into the room and sets me on my feet. His strong hands grasp the back of my dress and with a simple tug, he tears the fabric, sending it to the floor.
“You tore my dress. What am I going to wear out of here?”