Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
There’d never been anything like this. Never been anyone like him.
She was still coming when he began to throb deep inside her. His big hand clamped on the back of her head, and he kissed her hard. She tasted his ecstasy, tasted her bliss, tasted everything they were, and everything they could be.
He was right. Nothing had ever been like this.
Never. Ever.
Chapter Nineteen
Michaela woke to harsh sun streaming through the window. What time was it? Long past dawn, she knew that. The glaring light burned through her eyelids with the hard brightness of the morning after. Too much wine, too many cocktails, too much reality. Everything was different the morning after.
Oh God, what had she done?
She’d slept with a client.
She’d slept with Troy.
And it had been the best sex of her life. The best sex ever. She didn’t exactly scramble out of bed and run before he could touch her. But she knew exactly where touching would lead. And she couldn’t go there. It was too terrifying. It made her too vulnerable.
Pretty much crawling out of bed, she hoped she wouldn’t wake him.
But as she stood, butt naked, by the side of the bed, he said, eyes still closed, “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back.” Then she went straight to the bathroom, where her robe hung on the back of the door. When she had it on and felt sufficiently fortified, she stepped out, and, as calmly and coolly as he had, she said, “I’m desperate for coffee.”
All she really wanted was to climb back into that bed and have her wicked way with him over and over. She wanted to store up the sensations, the sighs, the whispers, the shouts of their bliss.
But he was smiling. “How do you like it?” Then he winked. “I mean your coffee.”
She couldn’t help answering, “Rich and creamy.” It sounded like a sexual innuendo. Or an invitation. God help her, it was probably both.
She rushed from the room, moving so fast she almost tripped on the stairs, grabbing the railing before she tumbled to the bottom. In the kitchen, she filled the filter, then dumped it in the trash, completely forgetting what she was doing.
She had visions of spending all day in bed with him. Which could never happen, because he was a client, and she never slept with clients. Especially not billionaires who thought they could have anything they wanted.
Her head knew Troy was nothing of the kind, but the fears filling her heart couldn’t help shrieking at her. She’d known way too many frogs. But she’d never kissed a frog like Troy.
For the first time, she wondered if a frog could truly turn into a prince.
But that was the most frightening thing of all—to have hope, only to find out that, no, frogs never turned into princes. That was only in fairy tales.
The second attempt at coffee had brewed, and she’d set out mugs and creamer and sugar because she couldn’t remember how he took his coffee, when he entered the kitchen, fully dressed.
She sure as hell hadn’t expected that. What had she expected? Boxer briefs and a T-shirt? Naked? But she pasted on a bright smile, poured him a cup, and shoved it at him across the counter.
After stirring in a little cream, he sighed. “Ambrosia of the gods.” He drew a finger lightly across the back of her hand, sending a shiver through her. “And you are the ambrosia of the goddesses.”
She blushed. Especially when it reminded her how he’d feasted on her several times last night.
He set his mug on the counter. “The absolute last thing I want to do now is leave.”
Her fear-ridden heart shriveled even more.
“But there’s a meeting I’ve rescheduled to this morning, and I can’t miss it.”
She couldn’t stop the words from flying out of her mouth. “But it’s Sunday.”
She wanted to kick herself, but in her bare feet, a kick wouldn’t have done any good. He took two steps closer, the scent of sexy man and their lovemaking wrapping around her.
“I know.” His voice was so soft, so tender. “But they’re in Hong Kong, and after I had to cancel the last meeting, today was the only time that worked for all of us. I want to make the deal for those boots you loved.”
He made it sound like she’d been the deciding factor.
But he had to leave. Shouldn’t she want that? So she could regret and regroup and rebuild her battlements? Yes, that’s exactly what she wanted.
Even if her whole body was screaming for him to stay, even her fear-shriveled heart. Because last night had been so good, so perfect. Because her body still buzzed with all the sensations he’d instilled in her. She could smell him, taste him, want him.
And those were all the reasons he needed to leave.
She picked up her coffee mug as though it made a wall between them. “I understand completely. I’ve got a million things to do too.” She turned and headed toward the front door, assuming he would follow, saying over her shoulder, “Thank you for a lovely evening.”