Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Than her low, deep moans that pleaded for more with every single one.
Nothing fucking better than the way she moved with me as I grabbed her ass and rolled to the side and hooked her leg over my hip.
She pushed me onto my back before I was even comfortable.
Straddling me, my cock still inside her, she moved. Slowly and torturously, she rocked her hips against mine, taking me deep inside her. She controlled every inch of me, from the way she clenched on me to the way she slid her hands over my body until she was leaning over me.
Her hair tickled against my skin when she dropped her head. I swept it up into one of my hands and held it encased in my fist at the base of her skull. My knuckles brushed her skin when her entire body moved with the way she fucked me.
One hand around her and one on her ass, I dropped my head back. She felt so fucking good on top of me. My cock throbbed as she worked it. The desire that flooded my body was hot and desperate, and fuck if I could hold on much longer.
I let go of her hair and grabbed her other ass cheek. She moaned as my fingers dug into her tight ass, but complaints died as she forced her mouth onto mine and I thrust into her.
I fucked her hard. Her moans teased over my lips. I swore into her ear.
She grabbed the sheets and dropped her head.
Cried out into them.
I groaned.
She turned her head.
I held her.
She whispered, “I love you, too.”
Epilogue
Dahlia
One week later
“Well?”
Abby tapped her fingers against the desk. “She’s not bad. Honestly, she’s mostly rusty. She can’t step right into the job Russell had because of training, but she should pick it up pretty quickly.”
I leaned back in my chair and spun it side to side. I hadn’t ever expected Perrie Fox to call me or Abby, but she’d called us both. Me to meet with Damien, Abby about an interview.
An interview that had just happened. Successfully, apparently.
“It’s up to you. You’re far more subjective on this than I am,” I admitted, clicking my pen top. “But also, you’re the one who has to work with her. I work the bar so rarely, it’s a hobby more than anything.”
Abby sighed. “I knew you’d say that. I feel like if I hire her, I’m doing both you and Damien a favor, but if I don’t…I’m denying her the opportunity to better herself and denying myself a potentially excellent bartender.”
“Did she ever mention…life?”
“No. Not once. Just flexibility because of her daughter and how she’d need a little time to schedule affordable childcare.”
I was absolutely sure that childcare would no longer be an issue for her, affordable or not. Her phone call to me yesterday afternoon telling me she wanted to meet with Damien to speak to him had set a fire inside my guy.
I’d had to stop him from calling a realtor to buy her a house.
And he called me the fixer.
Pfft.
“Then it’s down to you,” I said to her, putting my pen down. “Honestly, you’re the manager here.”
“I wish you’d never put me in this position.”
“Owner perks.” I grinned. “Look, it could just be temporary, all right? You know I’m seriously considering purchasing the club Damien’s father is selling. What if I said train her and then she can move there?”
“Why can’t I move if that happens?”
“Do you want to move?”
“No.”
“Then there’s your answer.” I loved my best friend, but my god. “I don’t know what I’m doing yet. I still have to think about it. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“As a rule,” she said, stretching her arms above her head, “Buying things from your boyfriend is not the best idea.”
“Technically, I’d be buying it from his dad.”
“Still not a good idea.”
“Maybe not, but after their fight, they straightened everything out. Besides, I’m not against this twist of irony.”
And I wasn’t. I was all for buying a Fox business after Benedict had tried to buy mine. As for the fight—Benedict had his lawyer instruct Damien’s valuation. Damien had flat-out refused it, claiming all sorts of reasons, and had eventually gotten through to his father.
As I sat in front of my best friend, discussing this, Benedict was on his way to rehab in Lake Tahoe. Nobody believed for a second it would work, except maybe me. Then again, I was an eternal optimist. I believed he had the opportunity to change, so maybe he would.
Damien thought it was a deflector for the fact he’d stepped down from the business in everything but ownership. The official line was that he was sick and headed for some treatment—which wasn’t a lie—but it also meant that all the things Damien wanted to do were going at warp-speed.