Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
“I love you,” I tell her again, saying the words into her mouth between kisses, moving with long, deliberate strokes that make her toes curl against the back of my thighs. “So much, angel.”
“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Tell me more, more, more.”
“I love you,” I say again. I say it with every stroke. I whisper into her throat, groan into her hair as her soaked walls tighten around me and her nails bite into my shoulders.
She comes quietly this time—not screaming or thrashing around. A slow, rolling wave that builds from her center and spreads out, causing her body to arch against mine. Her mouth opens in a silent cry, her eyes locked on mine the entire time.
I follow her over the edge with my forehead pressed against hers, spraying my seed so deep, holding my body still as my cock pulses inside her and my arms hold me up to keep me from collapsing.
She feels every throb. I know because she taps against my arm in time with each of them. In the following silence, lying together, my hand in her hair, I say it.
“Marry me, Hazel.”
Her breath catches, and she goes still against me. When she lifts her head, she’s searching my face with those gorgeous eyes.
“You–you mean that?”
“I would never say something to you I didn’t mean, Hazel.”
She stares back at me. Then her hand comes up to my face. She traces the line of my jaw, my cheek, and finally the crease between my eyes like she’s trying to smooth my brow.
The edges of her lips twist into the most adorable little smile I’ve ever seen.
“Yes, sir,” she whispers.
I kiss her deeply, closing my eyes, pulling her so tight against me she squeals. But somewhere, in the back of my skull, I hear Marcus’s voice: “She may have seen the contract and decided to stay, but she thinks she just stumbled into all this.”
I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, the only thing that matters is this wonderful girl in my arms who just agreed to be mine forever.
9
HAZEL
I’m so happy it’s embarrassing.
My engagement ring is two-carats on a platinum band, and it catches the light every time I move my hand—which of course means I move my hand a lot now. I’m constantly adjusting my monitor, smoothing my skirt, reaching for my coffee. Even just talking with my hands more.
Yes, I’m that girl who can’t stop looking at her engagement ring. The only thing that stops me is my billionaire fiancé who made me come three times before breakfast today and told me I wasn’t allowed to wear panties to work…
…just in case he wanted “easy access.”
So now, sitting in my leather chair at work, the seat reminds me that I’m bare beneath my skirt.
Cassi nearly broke my eardrum when I told her. She shouted so loudly that her roommate called the police thinking she was being murdered. Then she made me send like twenty different photos of the ring from every angle imaginable.
“I told you you were waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet,” she told me.
Yeah, just not Brad Pitt. Better.
She was right; of course, she just didn’t know Dominic would use a contract to do it.
The contract. I think about it sometimes—the relief services clause and the non-termination language. I know what I signed. I’ve known since he first showed it to me in his office. I chose to stay, and not because of the fine print, but because the man behind the desk who couldn’t keep his eyes off me.
I chose this. All of it. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
It’s Tuesday afternoon when the bottom falls out.
Dominic is in a meeting and Marcus is at lunch. The trading floor is humming with activity, and I’m reorganizing a shared hard drive because I’ve finally learned how to do something decently well. I’m consolidating duplicate folders when I open a directory called HR–Internal.
There’s a subfolder labeled Assistant Hiring–Confidential.
I click because it’s my job to organize his files. Inside, there are only three documents.
The first is a background report with my name and Social Security number on it. It also has my credit score, my bank balance ($214.12 on the day they pulled it), my rent ledger showing me three months behind on payments, my employment history and social media accounts.
At the bottom, in ink, are Marcus’s handwritten notes:
No competing job offers. No boyfriend. No family wealth. Recommend immediate hiring. High retention probable.
“High retention probable…” I say to myself. Basically just a polite way of saying I’m too broke to leave.
The second document is an actual job listing with my title as Executive Assistant. It’s an internal draft, nothing I saw online. And it’s time-stamped three hours after I submitted my blind resume in via e-mail.