Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
But I only said I was starting fresh out here in Colorado. I never said I was going to change.
So I picked up Termite and tucked her under my coat. We rushed through the rain a few feet until we reached an awning above the front doors. I just wanted a closer look. Maybe I could ask that guy for a few pointers on my interview tomorrow. If nothing else, I could figure out why the hell Stone Financial had decided to build their new headquarters in the middle of nowhere like this.
I gave the large front doors a tug and was surprised to find they opened easily. The decor immediately made me feel under-dressed, even in the middle of the night. Everything was all polished, gleaming, and modern. It was like stepping inside a swanky spaceship. And there I was in a ratty road tripping t-shirt, one of Brad’s old, oversized coats, and yoga pants with my comfiest pink fluffy sandals.
I spotted the guy I’d seen once I was inside. His back was to me and he was sitting in a little lounge area with his coffee on the table in front of him and a newspaper in his lap. What kind of person still reads the newspaper? And who does it at three in the morning with a cup of coffee?
“Hi,” I said.
The man sputtered as he was sipping his coffee and spilled it on his shirt. “Fuck,” he swore, standing up and trying to blot his white t-shirt with napkins. I grinned when I saw he had on checked blue pajama pants and was barefoot.
“Sorry,” I said, rushing to help him. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Here, let me help with that.”
I started pushing napkins against his chest around the same time I got my first real look at him. Walls of muscle. Mountains of masculinity. Eyes like little blue daggers made for slicing off panties in one clean swoop. He was the kind of gorgeous that made stories about women falling for their twisted captors believable.
I blinked. I was definitely sleep deprived. He was just a man. A man who was glaring at me as I awkwardly pushed napkins against his hard, sculpted pecs. He had dark black hair cut short at the sides and swooped back at the top. He wasn’t just hot. He was smoldering, even in his PJ’s.
He had a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, great hair, and those eyes… They somehow managed to make me feel like he was picturing me naked and about to drag me back into the rain by my collar at the same time. Why was that combination so hot?
I cleared my throat and stepped back, laughing a little as I lowered my hand. “Sorry,” I said, as if that was one of the only words I could say around this man.
“How did you get in here?” he asked.
He had a voice like chocolate syrup. Deep, smooth, and delicious. I had a brief and powerful urge to strip off my clothes and drizzle that delicious syrup all over my body. “The door was open.”
“Why did you come in here?” He asked again, as if deciding that was the more important question. “It’s pouring.”
“Well, I have an interview tomorrow. I was driving by to check the place out. I saw a light on and someone inside. I just thought I could come introduce myself. I’m Lola Thorn, by the way.” I flashed my best smile and stuck out the hand that wasn’t holding Termite to shake.
He looked at my hand like it was a dead fish, then slid his gaze to Termite. “What is that?”
“This is Termite,” I said, setting her down so she could go up and say “hi”. “She’s really sweet, but–”
Termite rushed toward him and started humping his leg. “She’s a little perverted,” I added in a small voice.
The man bent and removed Termite from his leg, lifting her as if she might be diseased and handing her back to me. “You and your dog both need to leave. Now. There are umbrellas by the door.”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry. Are you like a security guy? I didn’t get your name.”
He stared. “You don’t know who I am?”
I looked at his chest again, which was a bit of a mistake. I could see the shape of those glorious pecs and the hint of his nipples through the white fabric of his shirt. He didn’t just go to the gym. He might actually live in one. I wondered if he was the kind of guy who liked having his nipples played with. “No nametag,” I said, still trying to flash my most winning smile. Other than the whole former life in flames thing, I was really good with people. They liked me.
The man stared. “You have an interview tomorrow? For what position?”