Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Come. I stocked the mini-fridge with food for this morning. It’s no gourmet breakfast, but it will give us fuel for the day.”
I leaned against the doorjamb as he laid out various fruits, pastries, and yogurts. He’d even brought orange juice and champagne. When he sat back in his chair, I walked to the opposite side of the table to my own seat.
“No,” he said before I could sit. I jerked my eyes to him, and a thrill rippled through me when he patted his thigh. “Come here.”
I almost ran to him, throwing myself in his lap, but stopped. I loved every moment of being docile for this man, but I was still me. Still me, who didn’t run and jump to for any man, no matter how many orgasms. Even if I was going to give in, I still wanted the excitement of the challenge. His jaw clenched when he saw my smirk slowly spread across my lips.
Climbing atop the table, I held his stare and crawled across. My breasts swayed with each move, and I loved the way his eyes dropped to watch. When I finally reached his side, he leaned forward and gripped my jaw.
“You’re so fucking sassy, aren’t you?”
“You like it.”
He grunted and leaned forward to nip at my lips sharply. “I do. Now get on my fucking lap so I can feed you.”
I managed to not knock anything over when I got off and perched on his lap. He kissed up my neck and stroked my arms, lulling me to relax against him.
“What do you like?” he asked in my ear.
“Everything,” I sighed.
He nipped at my ear, pulling me out of my haze. “I meant the food.”
Smiling, I pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m not picky.”
It was a little odd to be sitting on his lap and having him feed me when there were five other chairs at the table, and I was a grown woman, but it was also relaxing and felt right.
“Tell me about school,” he said, placing a ripe strawberry past my lips.
“Good. Boring. How’s work?”
“Good. Not boring. It’s why I like my job. It keeps me busy with new things—new places.” He smiled and nipped my jaw. “What do you want to do after college?”
Wasn’t that the million-dollar question. “I don’t know. Something not boring.” I sighed, frustrated with not knowing what I wanted yet. “Nothing interests me so far. Maybe I’ll just become a socialite.” Placing my fingers under my chin, I bat my lashes. “I’ll shop all day and go to clubs for money. Maybe attend charity fundraisers.”
“Yeah, right,” he said, laughing. “You’re too smart for that.” Warmth sunk deep in my chest at his compliment. “You’re good at the design aspect of the hotel. Vivian tells me you always have great ideas that they use—good marketing ideas. Carina keeps telling me she’s going to steal you from me.”
Tucking my chin to my chest, I smiled. “I do love designing all kinds of things—fashion and interiors.”
“You mentioned your dress, which I still think was lacking some material.”
“You loved it.”
“Too much,” he growled. “Did you decorate your apartment?”
“And Daniel’s.”
“I’m impressed but not surprised. I’m glad you get to use that skill set at the hotel. Pretty cool place to intern, huh?”
“I guess it’s okay,” I answered with forced reluctance. Honestly, sometimes, I went into the hotel and couldn’t tell if the excitement was the work or the idea of being around Kent.
He popped another chunk of fruit in his mouth and smiled up at me. His eyes were a beautiful brown, so much lighter with the sun shining through the large windows. They matched his mood, and I could get lost in them for hours.
“Kent, what are we doing?” I almost whispered the question.
“Eating,” he answered easily.
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t know.” His answer was quick before popping another bite in his mouth and moving on. “What do you want to do today?”
I pursed my lips and gave him a serious stare, not letting him off the hook. The light brown dimmed as he became more serious and stroked my cheek. I wanted to sink into his touch, but now that I’d asked the question, I needed the answer. I couldn’t believe the words had slipped out in the first place. Oaklyn accused me more than once of being a commitment-phobe, and here I was, asking for clarification.
I boiled it down to just needing to know if I’d get to feel more pleasure. This had nothing to do with commitment or the warm goo sliding around my chest.
“I like you, Olivia. I like fucking you. You make me laugh, and you make me come. Two of the most important things to me.”
“I like you too.”
“Then let that be enough.”
Enough.
The answer felt tenuous and fleeting like it could be taken from me without notice. Warning bells jingled softly, a quiet reminder that if I continued down this path of being with him, sitting in his lap and laughing with him, I could put myself in a position I hadn’t been in since Aaron. One I’d made sure not to be in for the past two years. Shoving the ominous siren down, I told myself to take advantage of all the pleasure while it lasted. I could spend more time with Kent, give my body to him again and again, and still stay separate.