Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Why?” My feet thudded across the polished, wooden boards.
“Because I paid good money for this place, for these poles, to continue my Aunt Jessa’s memory and—I swear to god if you suggest I sell again, I’m going to rip this pole right outta the floor and whack you over the head with it.”
“I would love to see that,” I replied. “Love. To see it. No joke. But I think I might be able to help you. Shit, even if I can’t, I know a guy who can.” I halted beside her, ran a finger down her spine, and rested it just above the lip of her yoga pants. She had to quit wearing these around me. They hugged every intimate part of her so tightly it was as if she were naked in front of me.
And that ass, though. Damn.
Too much of a distraction.
Riley shivered and arched her back.
I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Mind moving out of the way, gorgeous?”
She jumped as if I’d goosed her, blushing red hot, and scooted backward.
I took hold of the pole and looked up at the ceiling as she’d done, then jerked it back and forth. It rattled against the upper silver casing. “You got a ladder?” I asked.
“No.”
“Any tools?”
“Oh yeah, sure. I keep them in my other pair of yoga pants, though.”
“Hoo-ee, somebody had a good day,” I replied and let go of the pole. I brushed off my palms. “Look, I can’t do anything about this without the necessary equipment. I’ve got a guy who sorts out this type of stuff, best in the business. I’ll have him come over and fix this, assess the rest of the poles too, just in case. Sound good?”
“In return for what?” Riley asked and gripped her upper arms. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but—I can’t afford to pay him. And you know I can’t afford to pay you until the end of the month, so—”
“No charge,” I replied. “Think of it as a gift from one business owner to the other.”
“Or a bribe.”
“Jesus Christ, what made you this cynical?” I asked and walked over to her.
She lifted her chin in that defiant gesture I fucking adored. She was tiny, but strong. She probably had more strength in her pinkie finger than most of the men I dealt with on a daily basis. They’d have run home to mommy and daddy before even thinking of sleeping on the floor in one of their businesses. And these were dudes who wore suits and were at least my age—thirty-five and up.
“Life,” Riley said. “I guess I’m not used to people giving stuff away for free. Everyone I’ve known has been about taking. Well, almost everyone.”
I took her hand in mine, because I couldn’t not do it. Every cell in my body screamed for me to touch her nonstop, and it was fucking painful not to follow through. She didn’t flinch. “I’m not like everyone else,” I replied. “I’m sure you’ve realized that by now. I’ve got nothing to lose here, Miss Robinson. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with.”
“Then why did you want to buy my studio?” she asked, and she slipped her hand from my grasp “I don’t understand.”
“Because I can’t stop,” I said. “I never stop. I want it all, and I want it now.”
She hesitated and tilted as if she’d caught the faintest tune. “I know that,” she said. “That’s a Queen song. I want it all, I want it all, I want it all, and I want it now.” Riley grinned. “Well, you can’t have it all, Jax.”
“It’s never wise to poke the bear.” I could have it all. Domination sated me.
“You’re more of a wolf than a bear. All shaggy and—” She rammed her teeth shut, tugged on the bottom of her sports bra. “Never mind.”
“All right, never mind. Let’s go eat.”
“Huh?”
“Let’s go eat. Dinner. You want to eat in or out? I’m fucking beat. Been sitting in airports all week or on flights with sweaty dudes from other countries. I always wind up sitting behind or in front of some greasy motherfucker who thinks hygiene’s a word written on the back of a toilet somewhere in India. What do you say? Chinese, pizza? Burgers? Sushi? Curry? Don’t tell me you want French food. I’ve had enough of that to last me a fucking lifetime.”
“You went to France?” Riley’s eyes glowed, and she pressed herself forward an inch, bumped my arm. “Sorry, I’ve never been out of the country before. I’m, uh, just interested.”
“Yeah, but trust me, it was all business and no fun,” I said and walked over to the stack of chairs in the corner. I grabbed Riley’s handbag and walked it back to her, held it out on the tips of my fingers—another act I’d never dreamed of performing. Fetching someone’s shit for them? It was usually the other way around.