Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Click.
Bull’s smacking is helping my focus. The pieces all connect. My constant haze lifts as it always does when I locate my target.
Adjust.
Focus.
Her eyes and mine are locked again. She’s furious and I’m…curious. I want to know how her hair smells. I want to know how her voice sounds when I draw pleasure from her. I want to know how the curve of her ass feels with my cock pressed against it.
“Mr. Barker,” she huffs and waves toward me while speaking to Bull. “Is there something wrong with him?”
He chuckles. “Please, Letty. Call me Jeff. And yes, there’s a whole lot wrong with him.” I don’t tear my gaze from her but I can sense him smirking at me. Unwillingly, I break my stare from her and pick up her résumé.
Letty?
I don’t like the name Letty.
The résumé reads Violet O. Simmons.
Violet?
I like the name Violet.
“Violet,” I mutter and bore my eyes back into hers.
Her withering stare falters a bit as her sexy mouth parts open. I want that mouth. I want to taste it and suck it. I want to fuck it, goddamn it.
“Why don’t you take the weekend to think on it?” Bull interrupts as he stands. His hand takes her elbow, and she stiffens. As if his touch frightens her. Bull would never hurt a woman, but I don’t like the fear rippling from her.
“Release her,” I growl. The words are low and threatening.
Bull sends a shocked look at me but lets her go. The tension in her shoulders relaxes. If I weren’t paying attention to every single detail on her face, I’d have missed the flicker of gratitude in her eyes. I’d have missed the relief.
“There’s nothing to think about,” she tells us both, her chin lifting in a brave way. “I’m leaving in two weeks. You’ll need to hire someone who can do everything I do for this company. In fact, you’ll probably need to hire three people to replace me.”
Bull lets out a grunt, but I find my mouth twisting up.
A smile.
Violet Simmons, my little quitter, made my lips do something they really hate fucking doing. And with it, I feel a strange tightness in my chest. I like the way it feels. The foreign ache that matches the one in my cock coupled with the goofy grin on my face has me feeling more alive than I’ve felt in a really long time.
Oh, dear Violet.
You’re not going anywhere.
I’m still staring at her when she storms off toward the door. Her skirt is tight and hugs her curves in a way that leaves little to the imagination. Irritation flits through me that every other male in this building has probably been drooling over what’s been mine for six years. And my stupid one-track mind is just now seeing her for the first time.
The door slams shut and it reminds me of earlier this morning. A door slammed. I’d been on the phone with Mr. Collins. She’d been upset then too.
Don’t worry, Violet…I see you now.
“Don’t.”
I blink away the thoughts of her and glare at Bull. “What?”
“Don’t do it. Let her go. That woman has been here for six years busting her ass for you, and you’re just now realizing she’s here. But it’s your dick that finally sees her. Call Elisha. She’ll take care of that nosy little dick of yours and you can get back to focusing on shit that matters. Like the Collins deal.” He takes his glasses off and scrubs his face as if this entire afternoon is exhausting him.
And I’ve never felt so refreshed.
I won’t be able to sleep until I’ve learned everything there is to know about Violet O. Simmons.
“You’re right,” I lie as I gather the paperwork on my desk. “Let me finish going over some stuff. I’ll lock up tonight.”
He narrows his gaze at me but doesn’t say a word in argument as he slips his glasses back on and stands. “Want to grab a beer later?”
I nod and wave him off. I’m antsy. I want my best friend to leave me be so I can do a little research. Twenty long minutes later, I hear his keys jangling against the glass of the front doors of our floor as he leaves.
I’m all alone.
The first thing I do is flip open my laptop. Facebook is where you learn a whole lot about a person. It takes a minute to find her, and when I do, I’m disappointed. She has it locked down. All I’m privy to is her name and her profile picture. Instead of her face, she has a picture of the ocean. Her cover photo is some vague quote.
My past has not defined me, destroyed me, deterred me; it has only strengthened me.—Steve Maraboli.
I’m dying to know what sort of things she posts, but it’s all fucking private. I can’t even tell how many friends she has. Does she have friends here at the office? Is Bull her friend? Another blossom of irritation surges in my chest. I’ve had this stunning woman strutting into my office several times a day and I have never paid one ounce of attention to her. Granted, I don’t know ninety percent of the people who work for me, but this feels different. This feels like an injustice. Like I’ve been duped.