Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“We’ll wait.” Oliver’s grip tightens, his words dripping with a frightening civility.
My stomach turns over with excitement.
Well, look at that. Game on.
Chapter 5
OLIVER
“You’re quite proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
She smells like gardenia and secrets, yet she looks like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. I know she’ll melt under mine.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I need a drink,” I mutter. Lie. What I need but shouldn’t is my mouth on her pussy.
“So you’ll be in the bar too?” She turns to me, her face a beautiful, blank mask. A ruse.
“A drink might help me appreciate your brand of humor.”
“Who’s joking?” she says, twisting away from my hand.
“I don’t do funny.” I find myself straightening my cuffs to stop myself from reaching for her. This infuriating woman needs some sense fucked into her. My mind bends to that image, my heart thumping loudly once in my chest, my throat growing dry as I see myself kissing her, holding her down, fucking her until her cries rock the room. “And I don’t do women in wedding dresses.”
“I thought it was just this bride you objected to.”
“That’s not it,” I snap. My temper isn’t the only thing frayed.
“That’s right. You objected to the groom. Like I said, Mitchell has tainted the day. My day. This is my way of fixing it.”
“Whatever can you mean?” I find myself drawling.
“Rebound sex.” She shoots me a look I can only describe as hostile.
“Of all the asinine . . .”
“Haven’t you heard? The best way to get over someone is to get under a new someone else.”
“And that’s your plan?” My gaze drops over her curves, desire buzzing through me now like electricity without an outlet. “You’re going to hang around the bar in your wedding dress?”
“Don’t tell me. There’s another dress code.”
“I’m not sure whether it reeks of desperation or fancy dress.” I saunter closer as though I haven’t a care in the world, let alone a care for anyone else having her. “Poor Gavin will be surprised when you turn up still wearing this.”
“And that’s your concern how?”
A good question, because despite my cool tone, the thought makes me feel murderous. Eve is not my responsibility—the fact that she was about to marry my nemesis six hours ago should’ve been reason enough to leave her at the curb. Instead, I canceled my meetings and set aside my whole day, telling myself I might learn something useful about Atherton. That I might discover a way to ignite the pyre I’m building for him. Instead, the day was an exercise in self-restraint as an invisible force built and twisted between us. A force I acknowledged but intended to ignore. Even as I kissed her.
The lift chimes its arrival, and the minx has the temerity to offer me her hand.
“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you.”
I should pity her attempt at manipulation. Somehow, it just makes me want her more.
“Yes.” My jaw tightens, my balls along with it, as my palm meets her much daintier one. Would she still look at me this way if she knew the depths to which I’d sink to in order to ruin her ex? You’re dancing on a cliff’s edge, and I am no savior.
“Oh!” She makes the tiny exclamation as I tug her into my chest.
“It looks like you’ll be seeing quite a bit of me.” Crooking a finger beneath her chin, I lift her gaze. “You win, darling.” You also lose, you beautiful, blind fool.
“Do I?” Her lashes lower, veiling her triumph.
“Unless you’d prefer to spend the night drinking Jägerbombs with Gav?”
“You know what I want.”
“Whom. Whom you want.”
“It’s not like I’m taking advantage of your virtue.”
“Admit it. To yourself. To me.” Tell me this isn’t all my fault.
“Sheesh, all right.” Her gaze lifts, her eyes golden in the light. “I want you. Though God knows why.”
“Eve.” Ignoring her disclaimer, I make a sigh of her name. “You are a shameless floozy.” And I am sorry you’ll come to regret taking this step.
“I prefer go-getter.” Her lips twitch, then give in to a grin. “Which would make you . . .”
“Hard to get?” Taking her hand, we make the lift before the doors begin to close again. “I’m certainly part of that sentence, in any event.”
I don’t reach for her as the doors slide closed. Instead, I watch her trembling hand as she hits the button, then enjoy a ride upward that’s silent and anticipation filled. As we step out into the hallway, I push my hands into my pockets and slow my pace, encouraging her to walk ahead.
“I thought you had a regular suite.” She delivers her taunting words over her shoulder.
“Which suggests what?”
“Well, you’re following me like you don’t know the way.”
“Perhaps I’m just enjoying the view,” I purr meaningfully.
Her laughter is girlish and unrestrained, her gait altering, her hips swaying hypnotically. As she reaches the door, she lifts her hand to the neckline of her dress. A whisper of air separates our bodies as I slip my hand over her shoulder and two fingers into the top of her dress.