Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
I glanced down at said fingers and the manicure I’d gotten yesterday because I knew I’d be coming to the party. I curled them into my palms, a sudden wave of shyness overtaking me.
“No need to hide,” he drawled lazily.
This man exuded whiskey and silk, mahogany and suede.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Now I’m comparing him to shit?
I had no doubt in my mind he was important to the company. Obviously, he was someone’s boss. Hello—he had that swagger and cockiness to him that said as much.
“I watched you long enough to know that you’re here alone. That you’re not wearing any jewelry from a boyfriend. No ring from a husband.”
My heart was racing faster now. God, how long had he been watching me? That should have scared the hell out of me and had me standing up and walking right back into that crowded room. There was safety in numbers.
But I stayed right where I was, and when he leaned in, I felt my eyelids droop a little, felt my breathing increase more.
“You’re single,” he said matter-of-factly, like he knew me better than I knew myself.
“Excuse me?” I sat up straighter, feeling my brows lower under my mask.
“I’m single.”
I didn’t miss how he steamrolled over my question. I also didn’t think too hard on why that short sentence rolling off his tongue had my inner thighs clenching on their own and my pulse throbbing right between my legs.
“Do you normally approach random women like this and give them your relationship status?” I kept my words light, but there was an undertone of letting him know if he thought I was some easy lay, he was mistaken.
Is he though? Shut up!
He chuckled deeply. Roughly. Goddamn him for the way he made me light up on the inside.
“You’re witty,” he said, all humor gone from his voice. “It turns me on.” Huskier now. More serious.
I was taken aback in the best way, if I were being totally fucking honest.
He didn’t speak. Not for a long while. So long that I shifted on the bench, trying not to let his very presence affect me as much.
“Tell me you are,” he demanded softly.
It took me a moment to realize what he meant. Then it clicked. My mouth dried, and I licked my lips. I shouldn’t have told him anything, but at the same time, I’d never felt so good. I felt high, drunk, and like I was living another life. I never thought about doing things recklessly, but I knew without a doubt what this man wanted.
Me.
He exuded that like the addicting cologne he wore.
I made a split-second decision—one I knew would shape everything going forward. Maybe for the better. Maybe for worse.
Either way, I was going for it.
“Yes. I’m turned on too,” I whispered.
The sound that came from him was unlike anything I could’ve described aside from saying it was masculine and needy.
“Come with me,” he ordered, as if he’d been expecting that answer. When he stood and held his hand out, I slipped mine into his and allowed him to help me up.
This was surreal.
I felt lightheaded, my knees wobbly, but I’d never felt more alive in my entire life.
And as I followed Anthony out, the only sensation I felt was watching myself become someone else.
Someone I was excited to meet.
3
PYPER
My heart was in my throat as I followed Anthony through the banquet hall, out the double doors, and down the hallway.
There was no nervousness in me. I only felt this charged excitement.
When we got to a studded, black padded door, a little part of me tensed. Of course, I didn’t expect some kind of sex dungeon, but there was something about this man that screamed dominance.
When he turned around and looked at me, my belly fluttered. I couldn’t see his mouth, but I just knew he was smirking. He pushed the door open, and the smell of old spices, rich cigar smoke, and masculine scents flooded my nostrils right away.
The room was decorated how I imagined a rich man’s study would be. There was a low fire burning in a fireplace on the far wall. Leather chairs and couches were sporadically placed, the lighting low, and a thick and rich cloud of smoke filled the interior.
Nobody paid us any attention as we made our way through the main room and continued toward the back. Anthony led me to a small alcove, one that offered full privacy but still continued the aesthetic of the cigar room. There was one large chair set in the corner of the alcove, and it looked just big enough for a man of Anthony’s size. Beside the chair was a small, wooden table with delicately detailed design work around the top edge. The lamp on the table had the green shade that was reminiscent of what you’d see in a library, giving it an old-world touch.