Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I remembered the night of the gala when he’d come alive while talking to Constance Baxter-Hicks about fashion and decor. While Rowe was shy and insecure about many things, he was 100 percent himself when talking about style.
And god knew the man was good at bringing things to life.
“Stain away,” I said with a laugh. “If it makes you happy, Jackson Pollock the hell out of this stuff with whatever you find in the fridge. Or order something online. Make yourself at home.” He had no idea how badly I meant that. “Trying to relax in this space has always felt like putting on a tie that’s a little too tight. It’s hard to breathe.”
Rowe’s eyes softened. “We can definitely fix that.” He pulled out his phone and began tapping it. “Oh, thank god. There are plenty of vintage and thrift stores around here. I hope you have a little money to spend on throw pillows at the very least.”
I opened my mouth to offer him everything I had—the billion I’d made myself and the fortune I was due to inherit one day—when I closed it with a snap. This man didn’t want money. He wanted many things, but wealth didn’t seem to be one of them. “I believe I can afford a few pillows,” I said with a straight face. “As long as they’re used. Nothing I love more than putting my face somewhere a stranger has put theirs.”
Rowe waved his hand at me in a dismissive gesture. “Snob. Haven’t you heard of a washing machine? Or do you have a laundress of some kind?”
Before I could admit I did, indeed, have a laundress, Rowe finally caught sight of the view through the wall of windows that led to the back deck. “Holy fuck,” he breathed reverently, moving closer to the expanse of dunes and wild waves.
I moved up behind him and snaked my arms around him. “Better than the white sofas?”
“So much better than the white sofas.”
We watched the ocean together for a while. The rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide was soothing, reminding me that there were bigger things in the world than Sterling Chase—bigger even than the knowledge that yet another person I’d trusted had betrayed me and Rowe right under my nose. A reminder, too, that not everything in life was predictable or understandable, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be beautiful and right… like the way I’d met the man beside me under the most ridiculous circumstances and the way I felt about him now.
I turned my face to press a soft kiss behind Rowe’s ear. “Thank you for coming out here with me,” I murmured into his sweet-smelling skin. Holding him in my arms made me feel both anchored and restless. I wanted him with a solid desperation that was crawling under my skin, but I was in no hurry since we had an entire week together away from the rest of the world.
Rowe tilted his head to give me more access. “It was hardly a sacrifice,” he said with a smile in his voice. “It was this or ramen noodles and a futon. You won by a hair.”
I continued nibbling on his neck. “Who says I’m not serving ramen noodles?”
Rowe’s laughter was warm and easy. There had been a moment, after Silas and Kenji had left my office, when I’d felt Rowe pulling away from me, even though he was right beside me. I still wasn’t sure what had been going through his mind, but knowing he was relaxing now helped calm me further. “Have you ever even had ramen noodles?” he asked.
I’d eaten them plenty in college, but because I was addicted to seeing Rowe’s smile, I said haughtily, “I’ll have you know I’ve eaten ramen at Mr. Taka in the Lower East Side.”
Rowe spun in my arms. “Isn’t that the place that has a freaking Michelin star? That hardly counts.”
His grin was contagious. I leaned over to press my lips against it and taste him. “You’re so easy to rile.”
We kissed for a long, unhurried moment, letting ourselves settle into it. I’d kissed Rowe enough that the taste of his mouth and the feel of his body under my fingertips were familiar, but that familiarity only made it more exciting.
My hands snuck under his shirt to spread across the warm skin of his back. His hard cock pressed into my inner thigh. I was torn between taking my time with him and ripping his clothes off like a savage beast. In the end, I found a sweet middle ground, undressing him quickly with my hands while teasing him slowly with my lips and nose.
Every time I ran my nose lightly under his ear or against his cheek, he shuddered and let out a delicious noise of submission and abandon.
I moved him over to one of my sterile white sofas with the sole purpose of acting on every single sex fantasy I’d had about the man since the moment I’d met him.