Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
But that’s not all.
That’s not all that happens.
There’s more.
Right alongside this surge of guilt, I feel a surge of something else. Something fiery and tingly.
Something that makes my thighs clench again, and my belly throb, and then he moves and I lose all my breaths and thoughts.
At first it feels like he’s leaning into me, his Italian loafers pushing against my Mary Janes, making me step back. And I think he’s going to do it.
He’s going to grant me my wish and kiss me.
And everything is going to be captured by the camera and oh my God, I should warn him.
I should fucking tell him that he shouldn’t.
He should not kiss me.
He should absolutely not kiss me or he’s going to be in so much trouble.
But then I realize that he’s not leaning into me, it only looks like it because he’s coming to his feet. He’s leaving his chair and he’s standing up. And because I’m so close to him, I get pushed back.
I get pushed further back when he takes a step toward me.
When he keeps doing it.
And suddenly, I’ve found myself, my ass, at the edge of his desk.
At which point, I’m thinking and assuming that he’ll stop.
But he doesn’t.
He backs me up even more. To the point where I have to make room for him, for his large muscled body and something mysterious that’s dripping from his dark eyes as he watches me.
And the only way to do it, to make room, is to get up on the desk. To actually sit on his papers and things.
To even lean back a little because he won’t stop coming at me.
Not until he’s got both his hands splayed wide on his desk and on either side of me.
Not until his eyes are right there, staring at me from this close.
So close that I’m drowning in them.
That I actually taste the sticky, sugary and bitter chocolate on my tongue.
But then he takes away all my thoughts and my glasses in the next second. I didn’t even know he was going to do that until things behind him become all blurry.
“W-what are you doing?” I ask, looking back at him.
He’s not blurred out though.
He’s clear. He’s the only clear thing right now in fact.
“Taking away your glasses,” he replies.
“But I-I can’t see anything.”
“You don’t need to see anything.”
“What? I —”
“Anything other than me,” he rasps, his eyes penetrating.
I swallow.
Feeling trapped and dominated. Feeling… thrilled.
Stupidly.
“So your first kiss, huh,” he rasps again, and lightning flashes in the sky behind him.
Making me realize that the sky is falling just outside this office.
That the rain is coming down even harder, battering against the windows like my heart is battering against my rib cage.
But I don’t care.
All I care about is him. All I can see is him.
And what’s more, all I want to see is him.
I lick my dry lips and grab the edge of the desk. “Yes.”
“Because you can’t get it from your boyfriend now, can you?”
“No.”
“Because it’s over with him.”
“Yes.”
He takes me in with those bright eyes of his. “And because you’re going away for a long, long time, you want me to do the honors.”
“Yes,” I whisper, hiccupping. “Because I’ve waited for it. I’ve waited three years for it and every time I think I can get it, you do something. You stop it from happening. You steal it.”
“I steal it.”
I nod, my nails digging into the wood. “Yes. I wanted to kiss him three years ago but I couldn’t. Because you sent me away. And I wanted to kiss him last Friday but you —”
Something akin to satisfaction, cruel and dark, flashes across his features. “But I came in and ruined all your plans.”
He did.
“So you owe me that kiss,” I tell him. “You owe me my first kiss.”
His lips pull up sharply in a mockery of a smile. “The devil owes you a kiss.”
“Yes.”
My nails dig into the wood harder.
Because I’ve thought about that. I’ve thought about the devil kissing me.
How could I not?
I’ve been waiting for my first kiss for three years now. And I never thought that I’d be getting it from someone else, someone other than Jimmy.
So yeah, I’ve thought about it and I’d decided that I would make this sacrifice. For us.
I’d make the sacrifice of getting my first kiss from someone else if it meant getting to be with Jimmy.
But God, God, now that the moment has arrived, this doesn’t feel like a sacrifice.
It doesn’t feel anything like a sacrifice at all.
He hums. “I suppose the devil could arrange that.” A pause, then, “For his harpy.”
At once, my breath freezes and my heart skips a beat. “So you’re… you’re going to do it? You’re going to kiss me?”
He cocks his head to the side as if studying me from a different angle. “On one condition.”