Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
I start to follow the waitress, only to hear Molly call out, “If he can get you off that fast, make him do it twice.”
I look back, horrified. There’s music playing, but if I heard her, so did the entire room. I suddenly feel like a lamb being led to slaughter, but I continue putting one foot in front of the other, curious to see this man who’s requested my presence.
CHAPTER 6
SIMON
I’ve been watching, waiting, biding my time.
After Tobias spilled about the ladies going out tonight, I told myself to go home, work out, and go to bed at a reasonable hour. I got home and ran on the treadmill until I was panting and drenched with sweat. A cold shower should’ve sent me straight to sleep, but I couldn’t relax. Not when all I was thinking about was Autumn at a club.
So I redressed in a fresh suit and hit the town as well. Slipping into the VIP section was easy as a Corbin, as was claiming a prime space where I can see the main area’s dance floor. Sitting and watching Autumn have fun, laughing and talking with the other finalists, let me watch every expression flitter across her face without filter, and as they took the dance floor, she sways and turns. She’s not graceful or smooth like a ballerina, but there’s something about the way she moves, her curves pushing one way and then the other that fascinates me.
Everything about her intrigues me. Who is the real Autumn? I pulled her application file again and pored over every detail and description, from her style influences to her actual designs, and she has a strongly classic bend, but the wild hellion that burst into my meeting today and began twerking and singing seems like a significantly different person.
And her eyes dropped demurely before she challenged me boldly. I even went online to her social media pages, which were handily included in her application, to get a feel for her.
And to see if there was anyone special in her life. Thankfully, I found no evidence of that.
Still, my intention had been to simply watch tonight. I’d wanted to see that she was safe, or at least that’s what I convinced myself. But five beautiful women on the dance floor together draw a lot of attention, not all of it mine. Seeing the third man make a pass and fail, I couldn’t bear it any longer.
Anonymously, of course. I don’t know that she’d come otherwise.
Although I wonder if she’ll come for a nameless host, either. I briefly consider the punishment for that . . . bending her over my knee and smacking that curvy ass seems appropriate.
But then she appears in the doorway beside the waitress. I shift on the loveseat, my knees spreading to give my growing cock room. Autumn’s intelligent eyes scan the dimly lit space and my breath hitches, impatient for the moment she sees me and hungry for her reaction.
Her eyes widen when they land on me, and her lips part in surprise. Almost as quickly, they continue around the room.
Who the fuck is she looking for?
As the waitress leads her my way, realization dawns and a gamut of emotions washes across her face . . . confusion, excitement, fear, hunger. “Monsieur Corbin? You asked to see me?”
“Welcome, Autumn. Please sit.” I extend the invitation and lay my arm along the back of the loveseat. Suspicious, she perches primly on the edge of the leather cushion, leaving as many centimeters between us as possible.
I appraise the beautiful creature beside me. I’ve seen countless women walk the runway and pose for photos, met those who are considered stunning and strikingly unique, boys’ masturbation fantasies.
All of them pale in comparison to Autumn. She’s wearing the scarf from her crazy outfit from today, but it’s now wrapped around her hips like a skirt, allowing a peek of pale thigh as she crosses her legs, along with a slim-strapped black top that highlights the fullness of her breasts, and her red hair flows over her shoulders. There’s a flush to her cheeks, and I wonder if it’s because of my presence or from dancing.
“I’m sorry again for the interruption this afternoon,” she says softly. Though I hear her well enough in the quieter VIP space, I lean in as though I didn’t, wanting to be closer to her. She repeats louder, “I apologize for this afternoon. Maybe we can pretend like that never happened?” Her brows lift hopefully.
I chuckle. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”
“Oh.” Concern and disappointment war in the single syllable.
“I won’t forget your barging in, your fieriness turning the dreariest meeting into something special. I won’t forget the curve of your ass, the cream of your skin, and the filthy words on your lips. It was—” I swallow thickly, correcting myself. “You were magnifique.”