Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
My heart goes out to this man and everything he’s dealing with.
His gaze drops for a beat. When he looks up again, there’s no mistaking the stark vulnerability in his expression. It’s the kind that comes from loving someone fiercely and knowing how easily they could be ripped away. It’s not a conscious decision to reach out and lay my hand over his larger one, only wanting to offer comfort and support.
What he’s going through must be torture.
I’m unprepared for the sensation that rushes through me at the innocuous contact. Everything stills as the television fades into background noise and the room narrows to that single point of connection. His breathing quickens just enough to notice.
He glances down at our hands before lifting his gaze to my face. Warmth creeps up my arm, my awareness sharpening as every cell in my body goes on high alert, wondering how this will play out.
His other hand lifts, and for one suspended second, I think he might touch me. His fingers hover, close enough that I can feel the heat of him before his arm falls back to his side.
My mouth dries as I pull my hand away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
The apology feels inadequate, too small for the weight of what just passed between us.
He shakes his head once. “Don’t be. I appreciate you saying all that. It means a lot.” His voice is steady, but there’s something underneath it, as if he’s choosing every word carefully.
The space between us feels different now, charged in a way it wasn’t before, and I suddenly notice how close his thigh is to mine. My gaze drifts to his chest, and I can’t help wondering what it would feel like beneath my palm.
It startles me how easily this moment could turn into more if either of us moved even an inch closer. The thought alone sends goose bumps prickling over my skin.
His gaze flicks to my mouth before returning to my eyes. Even though the moment passes almost as quickly as it came, the tension continues to linger, stretched thin and impossible to ignore.
He watches every movement as I swallow and shift my weight, unsure where we go from here.
“You should probably get some sleep,” he says, voice rough.
The words are practical.
Sensible.
Even necessary.
I nod but don’t move a muscle otherwise.
How can I when I’m frozen in place?
18
Laiken
Our gazes continue to cling. There are at least a thousand reasons why I should pull back and put an end to what’s happening here.
Kia now lives under my roof and is taking care of my daughter.
For fuck’s sake, she’s Oliver’s little sister.
Not only is this reckless, it’s dangerous.
A mistake waiting to explode in my face.
And yet, sitting here with her in the quiet, I can’t remember any of the reasons clearly enough for them to matter.
My attention drifts back to her mouth. I’ve been trying not to notice how pink and full her lips are since I first laid eyes on her. I’ve done my best not to acknowledge how plush they look. Or how easy it is to imagine what they’d feel like beneath mine.
That curiosity should have died the moment she agreed to work for me. Instead, it’s only gotten worse. Like an itch beneath my skin I can’t quite scratch. This woman is gradually starting to occupy every waking thought.
Not once does she break eye contact.
It would be so much easier if she did.
I feel the way her breath shifts more than hear it as the space between us shrinks inch by inch until I don’t remember consciously crossing it. When the couch creaks beneath our weight, it sounds more like a gunshot in the silence of the penthouse.
My tongue darts out to moisten my lips. “Kia…” Unsure what to say, I trail off.
We can’t do this.
It’s a mistake.
Except, those words never make it past my throat.
Her gaze dips to my mouth.
Just once.
Her pupils dilate. I wouldn’t notice if I weren’t watching her every reaction so intently.
The last threads of my restraint fray to the breaking point, and I lean in. The movement is cautious. Almost as if I go slowly enough, it won’t count as a stumble. Or it’ll give her time to come to her senses and pull away in horror.
But that doesn’t happen.
Instead, our mouths hover a breath apart until I can feel the warmth of her skin. The faint trace of her shampoo floods my senses, wrapping around every thought, until the last of my control snaps.
“Fuck,” I breathe as my lips brush over hers.
It’s a barely-there caress.
A test.
A mistake.
A promise.
All of the above and so much more.
The innocent sound she makes tears me wide open.
My hand lifts without conscious thought, sliding into the silky strands of her hair until my palm settles at the back of her skull. I cradle her, as if anchoring her to me and this moment, afraid if I don’t, it might vanish before I’m fully able to grasp it.