Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Such a shame,” she says, teasing me.
I curl my hands tighter around her hips, ease out, then play with her clit. “Then you came over and stared at the windows,” I grit out, recounting that first day she walked into my home, when all I could think of was her, here, like this.
“I seem to remember a dirty look in your eyes,” she says. “That must have been so hard.”
I push deep into her. “Does it seem hard, sweetheart?”
She moans, then nods. “Yes. God yes.” But then she recovers and teases me again. “But I feel so bad that you were struggling like that.”
I grab her hair, curl it into my fist. “I wanted to bend you over my couch every single time. To show you exactly what I wanted most in New York.”
She shudders. “What’s that?”
“You,” I whisper harshly, then ease out almost all the way.
“Nick,” she whimpers.
Yes. Fucking yes. I love it when she begs for it. She gasps, then pushes back on my dick, seeking me out, hunting for me. “Nick, please,” she says.
That’s my woman.
Hot, hungry, and utterly horny for me. That’s what I want. I stroke her clit, grip her hair, and fuck her hard. “Enjoy the view, sweetheart. Enjoy the fucking view.”
I pull her head up as I rock into her with a deep, passionate rhythm till she’s crying out and shuddering beneath me.
My control frays as I come hard, enjoying her, me, and the view of New York.
Just like I wanted. All of this. Every night.
A few mornings later, as I button up my shirt in the bedroom, I enjoy another view. I shamelessly watch my Layla as she applies some eye makeup in a new extra mirror in the bathroom. I installed a special one that pulls out from the wall and gives her a close-up view of her face.
Carefully, she concentrates as she draws on something, and I just enjoy the hell out of the moment.
This amazing woman in my home, doing what she loves.
When she’s finished making her eyes a little silvery, I let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Damn, you look good.”
“My makeup?”
“Your you-ness. Just you. Here,” I say. “I never thought the sight of you doing makeup in my home would be one of my favorite things, but it is.”
I come up behind her, press a kiss to her hair, and inhale her jasmine scent. She cranes her neck, arching against me like a cat. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I sure do,” I say, then I let her go so she can finish getting ready for work.
I head to the kitchen and keep myself busy. When she comes in all primped and stunning in a pink blouse with black polka dots and trim black slacks, I whistle again from the counter. “Executive Layla is in the house,” I say.
She gives a little curtsy. “Why, thank you. What are you up to?” she asks, peering around me.
With a sly smile, I grab a brown paper bag from the counter and hand it to her. “In case you’re too busy to go out to lunch. So, you can have it at work,” I tell her.
“You made me lunch for my first day,” she says with a smile that makes me feel like a king.
“I did,” I say, then I take her hand and we leave together.
51
ANYTHING FOR YOU
Nick
Several Months Later
“What do you think?” David stands in my office holding out a blue velvet box, the top flipped open.
I shield my eyes from the shine of the diamond. “It’s blinding me,” I say. Then in all seriousness, I add, “It’s gorgeous.”
He closes the box, relieved. “Thanks. Layla helped me pick it out.”
“Cynthia will love it.” She’ll be over the moon—those two are the real deal. After her recovery from the broken leg, she moved in with David in the city. She has a better boss and she’s bartending at a new spot in Brooklyn. Bet it drives Rose and her parents batty that David fell for this regular girl, but I don’t care what they think. I care that my kid is happy and thriving. “When are you asking her?”
“This weekend. We’re going camping.”
“Don’t lose it in the woods,” I warn him.
“I won’t,” he says, then tucks it in his pocket. “I should get back to work.”
He’s still at my firm, handling marketing and social media. But he’s scaled back by a few hours so he can devote time to A Helping Paw. His charity’s been growing both in funds and awareness. I’m so damn proud of this kid.
“Let me know when she says yes,” I say.
David exits as Finn comes in. They exchange hellos, then Finn shuts the door. His expression shifts immediately to solemn and serious.
“She did it,” he says as he slumps into a chair.
I don’t have to ask who or what. I just move to the chair across from him and then listen as he tells me about the end of his marriage.