Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
When she stepped out of the hotel, I was waiting for her.
She wore a black pea coat with gold buttons along with tights and black boots. Her brown hair was straight and still perfectly styled despite working five hours at the lobby counter. With her hands in her pockets for warmth, she walked to the edge of the sidewalk and prepared to wave down a cab.
Good girl.
She didn’t see me standing to the left, and she didn’t notice my black car parked along the curb. She was probably eager to go home and get out of the cold. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and started to text.
I came up behind her but stopped when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. I’m about to get in a cab. Should I give the driver my address or yours?
“Mine.”
At the sound of my voice, she turned around, both surprised and happy to see me. It was late at night, but we were still in public. That didn’t stop her from moving into my chest and wrapping her arms around my neck. She seemed to forget about the cameras everywhere, the fact that a coworker could see her at any second.
Or maybe she just didn’t care anymore. I chose to believe that. “Want to get a drink?”
“Sure.” She leaned in the rest of the way and kissed me.
My arms tightened around her waist and pulled her close to me, keeping her warm by chasing away the cold. I breathed fire into her cold lips, made her tits relax under her coat. I guided her to my car next and seated her in the passenger seat.
The assault had been part of a terrible night that I tried not to think about. But it also seemed to change our relationship. Instead of seeing me as a threat or a dictator, she saw me as a savior. I was the man who protected her, not hurt her. Now she was more relaxed around me, taking down her walls instead of putting them up.
Maybe it was exactly what we needed.
I drove to the bar and handed my keys to the valet before we walked inside. With my arm around her waist, I was immediately guided to the best booth in the place, something with privacy but also with the attention of the best server.
“What are you having?” I watched her peel off her coat and reveal her gray sweater dress underneath. It was tight on her chest and arms, showing off the curves I’d become infatuated with. I could have just driven her home and hiked up her dress, but the parameters of our relationship had changed.
“I’ll have whatever you have.”
“Double scotch neat?” I asked, encouraging her to get something else.
“I can handle it.”
“I’d rather you not be drunk when we get home.”
She rolled her eyes. “I come from a family of drinkers. I can handle it.”
I gave the order, and we were left alone.
My arm was around her shoulders, and I sat close to her, close enough to kiss her if I felt like it. My fingers brushed the hair out of her face so I could get a better look at her, the piece of art that I alone got to enjoy.
Her hand moved to my thigh under the table, squeezing me through my jeans. “How was your day?” She spoke in a sexy whisper, adopting a tone a woman would use in dirty talk.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” she asked. “That’s not much of an answer.”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Why else would I have asked?”
The waitress brought the drinks.
I picked up my glass and held it up for a toast.
She smiled then picked hers up.
“To good sex and strong liquor.” I tapped my glass against hers before I took a drink.
She brought it to her lips and tried to drink like a man, getting a rush of it down her throat. She almost choked it back up, but she forced it down into her stomach. She wiped away the drops with her thumb.
I downed my entire glass and tried not to chuckle at her. “I warned you.”
She stuck out her tongue and made a disgusted face. “How the hell do you drink that?”
“Lots of practice. Every day.” My hand moved into her hair and rested on the back of her neck. “And if you want to prove yourself to me, do it in the bedroom. I don’t give a damn how much or little you can drink.”
“Good.” She made a grossed-out face again. “I think I’m done for the night. For the week, actually.”
I grabbed her glass and finished it off.
“Are you going to be able to drive?”
“Baby, I could fly a plane right now.” I drank all the time, even held my most important meetings over a bottle of the finest scotch. It was a staple of my diet, the next best thing after water.