Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“You’re normally stressing worried that the event won’t go well.”
“The event will go well, or it won’t,” I say. “Everything is in place. Stressing won’t make a difference now.”
“Very enlightened,” Pete mutters.
“Ease up on the sarcasm,” I say, standing. “Today is a good day, and that’s all there is to it. Not everything has to be a meltdown.”
I feel barely here as I speak to the CEO of the biggest graphics card manufacturer in the world. We’ve got a good rapport and always have productive discussions, and I do my best. But I’ve got one eye on the door, looking past the circulating waiters, the streamers, the business types, waiting for her to arrive.
When she finally walks in, I let out a croaking sound. I mutter, “Holy shit.” Bryan, the CEO, tilts his head at me.
“Just had an idea,” I say quickly. “Sorry. Do you mind if I write it down?”
He grins. That’s my get-out-of-jail-free card anytime I want to wind a conversation down. I play the tortured creative, head brimming with ideas, desperate to get them down before they fly away. It helps that, a lot of the time, it’s true.
Dakota takes a glass of champagne from a waiter and looks around the room. Her hair is alive in glistening curls. The dress hugs her in all the right places, the emerald green reflecting the light. She’s like a beacon.
I type on my phone.
Jack: Look at the Emerald Cove booth.
She checks her phone—knowing we were going to text. I made sure the dress had a pocket—then looks up. Her face creases into a smile that makes the whole world brighter. Like I’m a long-lost friend and we’re finally reunited.
Dakota: Are you aware you’re ogling me, Mr. Cross?
I smirk, looking at her again with a shrug.
Jack: You’re right. I need to be more subtle. Let’s ‘meet by accident’ at the dungeon booth in five.
Dakota: Sounds like a plan.
I do my best to act normally as I circulate for ten minutes. Everybody wants my attention, to show me this or that, to sell me that and this. I nod in all the right places, making the right noises of affirmation. But always, I’ve got one eye straying, searching. Whenever I catch a glimpse of Dakota, her glorious smile, or hear her magnetic laugh, I want to charge right at her and sweep her into my arms.
Finally, the ten minutes are over. I walk up next to her, my shoulder lightly brushing hers. She looks up at me, cheeks flushing. She chews her lip, then turns back to the big screen.
“Hello,” I say. “Ms. Elf.”
She giggles, then replies while turning. “Hello, Mr. Goblin.”
There’s a thick crowd all around us. Dense enough for me to gently brush her side with my hand. She shivers, letting out a gasp that goes straight to my base. We’re playing with fire here, being so public, with so many journalists around.
One photo, and our worlds change forever.
I squeeze her hip, my body burning with heat. She shivers against me, then turns, batting her eyelashes. There’s nothing practiced about it. We’re both caught in the storm.
“Oh, it’s you,” she says, louder now, playing a role. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cross.”
“And you,” I reply. “It’s DakkyDuck, isn’t it?”
She smiles. “Well remembered.”
“I heard you have some opinions about the Cove,” I say. “Perhaps you’d like to share them.”
She folds her arms, squeezing her tits together alluringly. In person, she’s even more attractive. There’s a confident quality in the glimmer of her eyes and her smile that doesn’t fully translate to the screen. “If you think you can handle it.”
I nod, then lead her away from the group to the quietest corner of the expo. On the way, I grab two glasses of champagne. As she takes it from me, our hands brush. Electricity shoots up my arm like a preview of the crackling release we’ll experience the moment we’re alone.
“So, it’s really you,” she says.
“It’s really you,” I groan. “Fucking hell. Look at you, Dakota. I made a mistake with that dress.”
She turns slightly and wiggles her hips from side to side. “You don’t like it?”
“Look down—and you’ll see how much I like it.”
She glances down, then gasps. “Jack!” she exclaims, then covers her mouth with her hand. “You need to relax.”
I smile tightly. “Believe me, I’m trying.”
I knew she was hot, obviously, but being physically close is something else entirely. It’s her scent too. Perfume, or maybe just her.
“That’s right, don’t look at me,” she murmurs, voice breathy. “Or you’ll think about the Cove. About what we did there. You’ll think about doing it in real life.”
I look into her eyes, the empowered glee there. “You’re torturing me.”
She laughs. “Maybe just a little. Don’t worry. It’s difficult for me too.”
“Yeah, but is it hard for you?”
My cock twitches. I might have to flip it up into my waistband if I can’t calm the hell down.