Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
But the man is one of my sponsors, so I better be professional.
Somewhat professional.
I cross my arms and lift my chin. “About what?”
“About something I said,” he bites out, like he’s angry at himself.
But I still don’t like his attitude. He broke things off. I took it like a champ because I care about him. I hated seeing him torn up over doing the right thing. I let him go because it’s what he needed. He doesn’t get to show up and order me around.
I pretend to smile at someone in the distance. “Gotta do this later, Rafe. I need to say hi to Tanner.” Then I step away, heading for my bud.
Rafe darts out a hand and grabs my wrist, gripping me tight. The man is strong.
“What is it?” I ask, trying to stay impervious.
He steps close enough that I can smell his cologne, and I hazard a glance at his gorgeous face. His eyes are shells. He’s devastated.
My heart thaws a degree or two. Maybe more.
“Please, Gunnar,” he says, pleading like a broken man. “I’m so sorry.”
I’m half pissed, half intrigued. I scan the room. The ballroom is swimming with guests and the entryway is packed. But not far from us, there are doors to the balcony.
I head that way, weaving through the glittery crowd, and he follows. I slide open the door and step onto the terrace, eight floors above the New York street. He steps out behind me and closes the door behind him.
It’s just us out here on a balcony, and I’m free to let out what I’m truly feeling in my shattered heart. “What the fuck, Rafe? You come in? You demand an audience with me?”
He stares at me like I’m the first food he’s seen in weeks. “I lied,” he confesses like it’s a mortal sin. “And I’m sorry.”
Curiosity edges out my other emotions. “What did you lie about?”
“I said I had to go to London early for meetings.”
Wait. Whoa. “That was a lie?”
He nods, contrition etched across his face. “I had to escape you, Gunnar, and then I lied, and I came here tonight to tell you.”
I reel at his words. Why would he have to escape me? Why did he want to admit he lied? “We were already broken up.”
He grimaces. Good. Saying it hurts me too. Seeing him hurts. Wanting him hurts.
“I knew the date of the photo shoot, and I wanted to see you desperately. I didn’t know if I could stay away,” he says grimly. “I stared at the calendar and pictured showing up at the shoot, asking everyone to leave, then pushing you against the wall to show you how much I’d missed you.” Each word sounds scraped and rough. “I didn’t know if I could be in the same city and stay away.”
“You were in the same city with me the whole time before the shoot,” I point out. I mean, logic matters.
He drags a hand through his hair, his eyes pinched. “It was the idea that I knew where you were, where I could find you at a particular moment, someplace I’d have an excuse to be. I wanted to tell you that I missed you. That’s why I got on a plane.”
I’m crackling. I am dynamite, and he’s lit the fuse. “And now?” I ask breathlessly.
He curls his hands in fists as if he’s fighting not to touch me. “This time, I flew across the ocean to tell you I lied when I promised you I wouldn’t.” He takes a big breath as if to fuel his final words. “I came because I miss you so much, it’s driving me mad.”
I close my eyes, fighting with the anger and desire tearing through me. When I open them again, I set a hand on his chest and grab onto his purple silk shirt. “Goddamn you for showing up, Rafe. Goddamn you for confessing that. I was getting over you, and you just came here to destroy me.”
His eyes flare with heat, and he licks his lips. “Do you want me to walk away?”
“Fuck you. I can’t walk away.” I yank him against me, and I kiss him ruthlessly.
My lips smash into his, and I consume his greedy mouth. I pour my soul into the kiss, biting his lip, sucking on his tongue, making him moan.
I push my body against his. I grab his firm ass in one hand while the other cups his stubbled cheek. I jerk him closer, and we grind together. My back’s against the wall right next to the sliding glass door, barely out of view from the party.
I kiss him relentlessly, driving him wild. He’s a man undone, hands grappling at my shirt, cock pressing against my hard-on.
When I break the kiss, he’s panting, and his dark eyes are rabid as he cups my cheeks. “I have been going crazy,” he murmurs.