Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
His words tugged at my heart. “You made my day.”
“That dress made my year.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Are you completely historically accurate? Are there stockings and garters, a chemise, and stays all hidden under that satin?”
“How do you know all that?”
He grinned so widely his eyes crinkled and the divot in his chin deepened. A matching dimple, rare and small, appeared to the left side of his mouth. It only happened when he was totally at ease and happy.
“I checked out a few of your books, Gracie.” He tutted, shaking his finger. “They are quite risqué for a lady such as yourself.”
I felt my cheeks darken. “When did you read them?”
“I was bored waiting for you the night you were out eating cake. I picked up one you were reading.” He paused, another wide grin appearing. “I got hooked. I’ve been reading on my Kindle.”
“Oh,” I breathed out. “Tell me, Your Grace,” I teased. “Have you on smalls under your fine attire?”
Slowly, he shook his head.
My grin matched his. “Nor do I.”
He leaned forward, tapping a button on his computer. I heard the soft click of the outer door. He licked his lips, eyeing me lewdly, and spoke in a low, raspy voice.
“Now, you tell me, your ladyship, is that sweet cunny of yours wet for me? Is your pearl aching for my touch?”
“Yes.”
He held out his hand. “Then come to me, my wench, and I’ll cure the ache.”
“I can’t be a lady and a wench,” I protested, even as I stood.
He winked as he pulled me down on his lap. “You can in my story.” His lips hovered over mine. “And I promise you the most satisfying of all endings.” He slid his hand under the full skirt, skimming over my legs, pushing them apart. “You are going to spend on my fingers, my tongue, and my cock. You good with that?”
“Oh god, yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
Two weeks passed, the time simply disappearing. My days were busy and productive, Jaxson teaching me constantly, entrusting me with more tasks. He was at my place many nights, and we spent most weekends together. He had looked pleased when I offered him a key, pulling me in for a deep kiss as he folded his hand around the shiny metal. He told me he liked the warmth of my place more than the modern edge to his apartment. And although he assured me he had no issues with distracting me in the elevator, he let me know he hated to see how tense I became, knowing we would be stepping inside one.
“I dislike seeing you upset, Gracie,” he murmured, stroking my cheek. “The anxiety you feel bothers me so much. I’m not used to feeling empathy like that toward another person,” he admitted.
I saw a side to him that no one else did. That no one had ever seen, he assured me. He was funny and sweet. Caring. He worried about me constantly. His intense gaze took in everything, and I often looked up from my work to find his eyes focused on me. Silent conversations happened. Longing, lust, desire flowed between our desks.
And love.
Against everything in me, I had fallen in love with Jaxson Richards. He was nothing like the type of man I thought I would lose my heart to, yet he was perfect for me. Older, stern, and seemingly unapproachable, the man I knew was vastly different from the reputation he carried with him. He still held back, not yet prepared to share his life or story with me, and I did my best to remain patient. To let him know I was there when he was ready. I hadn’t told him yet that I was in love with him, unsure how he would react, but I planned on telling him soon. I hoped he would reciprocate my feelings, although I knew saying them would be harder for him.
Wednesday night, he had a late meeting, and he called when he was finally home.
“Hey,” I answered the phone with a sigh, wishing he had come here instead of heading to his place.
“Hello, darling.”
It thrilled me when he called me that. Every time, I had the same reaction. He didn’t use the term often, but it meant a lot when he did.
“How was the meeting?”
“Tedious. This is going to be a mystery to unravel. The layers in this corporation are multiple and murky. There have been too many gray areas allowed in the past, and now it’s a mess. I’ve never seen so many trademarks and copyrights mixed together and improperly recorded. Neither side is willing to budge. The money is too important to them.”
“I’ll help.”
I could feel his smile. “I know.” He huffed out a long exhale of air. “I’m too tired to head over. I’d be no good to you tonight.”