Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 79(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
I shake my head at him, trying not to smile. "I heard from the Firestorm people. They want you for the campaign, but I think you should reconsider."
"Why?"
"Because their drink is full of crap that's terrible for you. Do you really want to push a product that causes heart attacks and kidney failure when you're the spokesperson for a nonprofit that's fighting for people with congenital heart defects?" I shuffle through the papers on my desk before I find the one I need. "This is an info sheet on ReCharge, a company that bottles electrolyte-enhanced water. They're looking for a spokesperson," I say. "The pay isn't quite as good as what Firestorm is offering, but they're willing to offer you shares, and you'd be promoting a product you can actually get behind. Plus, they give a percentage of profits to charities that provide water to areas that need it most, like the Horn of Africa."
He takes the paper from my hands, scanning it. "You think this is a better fit than Firestorm?" he asks after a moment, glancing up at me.
"Will it get your name out there as quickly as Firestorm will? No. But is it a better fit for you and what matters to your personal brand? Absolutely," I say without hesitation.
"Let's do it."
I blink at him. "Just like that? You don't want to think about it first?"
"Babe." He grins at me. "I hired you because I trust you to help make decisions that are best for me. If you're telling me that this is a better decision, I'm with it. I don't need a ton of money thrown at me if I'm going to be promoting something I can't stand behind. I'd rather put my name behind something like ReCharge."
"Okay then," I say. "That was easy. It usually takes slideshows and browbeating."
"Did you make a slideshow?" he asks, grinning at me.
"Maybe I was working on it," I mutter, earning a chuckle.
"Well, mark it off your list. I'm not like everyone else, Emelia. I don't give a fuck about fame. There are more important things in my life." He cocks his head to the side, looking me up and down. "Like you."
"Business mode, Royce."
"You ran the clock out. We're on pleasure time now, baby." He prowls toward me, his expression all sin and intent. I could dodge him again, try to get him back on task, but not even a tiny part of me wants to pretend I don't want his lips on mine.
Instead, I let him haul me out of my chair into his arms. And I melt into him and his kiss, exactly like I've been waiting all day to feel his arms around me again.
Chapter Ten
Royce
"Do you know how to cook?" Emelia asks, peering at me around her menu. "Because I have this sneaking suspicion that you eat out every night because you're a disaster in the kitchen."
"I can cook." I sip my beer, staring at her. "But I fucking love to eat. Matter of fact, I tasted the most delicious thing I've ever had in my mouth last night. Can't wait to do it again."
She groans, dropping the menu to the table, her cheeks pink. "You're shameless, you know that?"
"Oh, I know." I reach for her hand, bringing it to my lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles. "But I've tasted you now, babe. Don't think I won't be doing it again at every available opportunity."
Her eyes heat and darken, making my cock throb. I swear, all she has to do is look at me, and I'm ready to go. But I'm trying to be good and show her that this thing between us isn't all about fucking. That's just the cherry on top of what we're building here.
She makes it damn near impossible to keep my hands to myself when she licks her lips, making another of those adorable, needy sounds.
Ah, fuck it.
"What are you doing?" she asks, craning her head back to look up at me when I haul myself to my feet, stalking around the table toward her.
"Coming to kiss you."
"Why?"
"You look like you need to be kissed, Emelia." I stop in front of her, leaning down until she's crowded against the back of the banquette, her eyes already locked on my lips. She doesn't stop me when I cup her jaw, angling her head just so. She just makes another of those little sounds that shoot straight to my cock.
I swoop, my mouth crashing down on hers. I just kissed her ten minutes ago, but I'm already starving for another taste. With her, I'm always starving, always greedy. I can't get enough of her or that perfect fucking mouth.
"Goddamn, baby," I growl against her lips. "You coming home with me tonight?"
"Maybe."
I bite her bottom lip. "Want to try that again?"
"Try what again?" she teases, her voice breathless.