Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
For a moment, I hadn’t even realized her plate of food was pressed to her chest. I didn’t even see her shocked expression as she stared up at me. All I could focus on was how pretty she was, how blue her eyes were, how soft she felt against my body. I hadn’t noticed anything else, but then slowly reality sank back in, the sound of people talking all around us, the soft sound of the music playing overhead, even the clink of silverware on the porcelain slowly filtered in through my ears.
I mumbled something about being sorry, that I hadn’t seen her there. It was all a lie. What I wanted to say was that I wanted her pressed up against me again, that I wanted to feel her against me, to gently touch her shoulders and see if her skin was as soft as it looked.
But I bit my tongue and just stared at her, and as she looked at me, as time seemed to stand still, I felt lost in the unusual and potent emotions swimming inside me. What was it about her that had me feeling this pull?
I found myself reaching out and grabbing a couple linen napkins that were on the table beside us, and before I knew what I was doing, I was taking the plate out of her hands as bits of hors d’oeuvres fell to the ground and slid down her dress. Her face was red, no doubt because she was embarrassed, although she had nothing to be embarrassed about.
Shit happened.
Because my mind was a jumbled mess, foggy and hazy from the alcohol and my arousal, I actually started cleaning off her dress. I instantly felt her body tighten and realized what I was doing, the napkin moving over her chest. I snapped my gaze up to hers and our eyes locked. Hers were wide, her cheeks still this pretty pink color.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, and she started to chuckle softly. “I really didn’t mean to be an inappropriate asshole. I guess I was working on instinct helping you out.” I took a step back, because I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of pervert trying to cop a feel. But she was still laughing, which gave me hope that she was pretty easy-going and accepted my apology.
“It’s okay.” She looked around the room and then finally settled her gaze back on mine. “Truth be told, this really isn’t my scene, and this isn’t the type of dress I normally wear. So that means this is not actually mine, and the person I borrowed it from is probably going to be pissed that there are stuffed mushroom and…” She looked down at her dress, and then over to the appetizer table. “Honestly, I don’t know what half the shit on here is, so I don’t even know what’s splattered all over my chest.”
It was my turn to chuckle and it felt good. I hadn’t laughed like this in a really long time, my focus on work and not much else. In fact, it had been a really long time since I’d had an easy conversation with anyone, let alone an attractive woman. Hell, I hadn’t had a conversation with a female in any form that wasn’t work-related in years.
“I’m Everett,” I said and smiled, holding out my hand, although the last thing I wanted to do was for her to shake it.
What I wanted her to do was push my hand away and step in close to my body, to give me a chest-to-chest greeting, even if I had yet to know her name.
Fuck, I was hard.
But she took my hand with her much smaller one and gave it a delicate shake. “Hi. I’m Penny, and I promise I don’t usually have food plastered to my body when I meet new people.”
I stood there, knowing she’d run right into me, but wanting an introduction that seemed natural and unforced. I didn’t want to come off as some buzzed-up asshole who was trying to get into her panties.
And then what that thought led to was... I wonder if she’s wearing panties.
Chapter Three
Penny
I was pretty sure it was the alcohol giving me the courage to flirt and talk with Everett, and I liked it. I loved it, in fact.
I’d never been a very outgoing person when it came to talking to strangers, or hell, making any kind of conversation, but I found it very easy with Everett.
We sat at the bar off to the side, guests coming and going, moving all around us, but it was like we were in our own little world. He told me how he was in corporate America, a CEO of an advertising firm. Although he didn’t say so specifically, it was very obvious that he was wealthy, even if he hadn’t told me that he was a CEO. I told him about the florist shop I managed. I certainly didn’t make the kind of money he did, but I loved my job and it allowed me to live comfortably, so for me that was good enough.