Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Margot’s okay. That’s all I care about.
“Can you go see who that is, Margot?” Cedarwood says. “Were we expecting someone else?”
“Ah, sure.” Margot murmurs something I can’t make out and a few seconds later steps into the hallway.
Her flaming eyes land on me and she marches my way. God damn she’s cute when she’s riled.
“What are you doing here?” She grabs my arm and pushes me toward a large room with a hideous patterned rug and lots of chairs.
She reaches behind her and slides a pocket door shut.
“Why did you come back?” She crosses her arms over her chest and glares. “I’m with a family.”
“I heard.” My gaze skims over her, noting she removed her clever little pins. “Where’s your fuckboy repellent?” I flick my finger against the collar of her pink-and-black cardigan.
She lifts her chin. “I didn’t need it for this consultation. Why are you here?”
Because I think I’m falling in love with you, you adorably bonkers woman. “I want to talk to you.”
“So. Use. The. Phone.” She enunciates each word slowly, like she’s speaking to a toddler.
“You know I only said that shit before so Dex wouldn’t think anything’s going on between us.”
“Nothing’s been going on between us for weeks.” She lifts her chin and huffs. “But you’re right. You were honest from the beginning that you don’t do relationships. I’m sorry if something I did made you feel like I wanted you to be my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend. My entire body cringes. I’m not boyfriend material.
But I want her so fucking much.
A spark of mischief lights up her eyes and tilts her lips to the side. “Your little fuckboy dissertation was flawed, though.”
“Is that right?” I take a step closer, staring down at her, closing in like a predator. “How so?”
“‘Stellar in bed’ means you would’ve left me satisfied, and, well…” She raises a mocking eyebrow and shrugs.
“The fuck I didn’t.” I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Last time I left here, my chin was dripping with your scent, you little liar.”
Her chest rises and falls faster, and she braces her hand against my chest, as if she wants to push me away but can’t find the strength.
After a few seconds, she lifts her head and glares into my eyes. “You should’ve warned me you don’t honor your commitments.”
That’s right, you know I left you satisfied. Wait, commitments? “Honor my…what?”
“Our lessons.” She practically snarls the word. “We weren’t finished.”
Never had someone so angry they didn’t get to suck my dick.
The corners of my mouth turn up. “You still want your lessons?”
She lets out an indignant sniff. “No.”
Yes, she does. Or she would’ve kicked me out by now. Can I do this? Be her actual fuckboy? Teach her everything she wants to learn, knowing we’re never going to be more?
“You didn’t find anyone else to teach you?” I rest my hands on her shoulders as if my touch can act as some sort of human lie detector.
She shrugs me off and glances away. “I haven’t had the time.”
Bullshit. She doesn’t want anyone else.
Keen awareness that there’s an office full of people less than a hundred feet away waiting for her to return slaps me into reality. “Can we talk when you’re done?”
Her gaze strays to the closed door. “I don’t know how long this is going to take.”
“I’ll wait.”
She glances around the room, then sighs. “Okay. You can wait upstairs. Keep Gretel company for a while.”
I chuckle. Is the cat pissed at me too? “How do I get in? I thought it was a biometric lock?”
She clenches her jaw. “There’s a button on the side. If you press it, a keypad pops up. The code is,” she leans closer and whispers, “sixty-five-ninety-eight.”
Who is she worried about overhearing us? The ghosts?
“Got it.”
“You don’t want to write it on your hand or something?” she sneers.
I flick my gaze to hers and add some frost to my answer. “No.”
“I have to get back.” She grips my arm, just a slight, friendly amount of pressure. But fuck, I’ve missed her hands on me. “It really might take a while.” She gestures toward her dad’s office. “It’s kind of messy.”
“Sounds like it. You need me to stay down here for protection?”
She seems to consider it for a few seconds. “No. It’ll be okay.”
“Want me to run out and get something for dinner?”
“You don’t have to.” She shrugs, then brightens. “There’s only one place that delivers pizza out here. We have a menu in the kitchen down the hall.”
I wanted to do something nicer than pizza, but it’ll have to do. “Okay. Any requests?”
“They make really good calzones. Just ask for extra sauce. They have a sausage and peppers pizza that’s good too.”
“You go there a lot?”
“At least once a week.”
“Okay.”
I want to lean down and kiss her, but she still looks prickly. Instead, I nod and take a step back, giving her space. “You finish with the Jerry Springer bunch, and I’ll order some food.”