Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Is that your lunch?” I look over to where he’s standing, watching me.
“I didn’t have a lot of options today,” I tell him after I swallow. Picking up my Diet Coke, I take a sip. “Do you want to hang here or there’s a chair in my office. I shouldn’t be long.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Of course, he will. Maybe I shouldn’t have given him the option and just told him that I would be back in like fifteen minutes. Without a word, I head down the hall to my office and step through the door. With the blinds open, lots of bright light fills the small space, making it feel bigger than it is. Taking a seat at my desk, he sits on my reading chair that is tucked in the corner of my room next to my bookshelves that are stuffed with my prized paperbacks. The chair was a hand me down from my mom after she got a new one, and I haven’t really had a chance to use it, but Zuri often comes in here with her iPad to hang out while I’m working.
Unlocking my computer, I get back to work, but I can feel his eyes on me, the attention makes me self-conscious.
“Can you please stop staring?” I mutter, digging my hand into the bag of gummy worms I keep on my desk.
“I like looking at you.”
“Well, stop, it’s making it hard to focus.”
“Is it the attention or me?”
Both
I look over at him and feel the pulse in the base of my throat beat wildly when his eyes lock on mine.
“Stop.”
“I’m not doing anything.” He’s right, he’s not doing anything, but just being in his presence is enough to throw me off balance. The problem is I’m attracted to him, and he has made it obvious that he’s attracted to me, which is both exhilarating and unnerving.
“I’m going to make you leave.” I shove two gummy worms in my mouth, and he grins.
“Alright.” He holds up his hands. “I’ll try to behave.”
I don’t believe him, not even a little.
I can still feel him watch me as I finish up payroll and e-mail everything over to the accountant so he can direct deposit everyone Friday. When I’m done, I close my laptop and look over at him.
“Done?” He asks, sitting forward, the muscles of his arms testing the material of his shirt.
“Yes.”
“You ready to go then?”
“I… Maybe we should just meet you…”
“No.” He stands and looms over me, he’s so tall he seems to suck up all the light in my office like an evergreen tree. “Come on.” He holds out his hand.
Ignoring his hand like he’s ignoring my desire to put space between us, I get up and walk out of my office. Going to the kitchen, I grab my cell phone from the counter where I left it earlier, then follow him to the front door, slip on my shoes, and pick up my bag, wrapping the strap across my chest. With his mom’s car keys in my hand, I let us out of the house and lock the door.
When we get to the car, I unlock the doors and walk around to the driver’s side, but his hand wrapping around my wrist stops me.
“I’ll drive.”
“No,” I look up at him. “Your mom entrusted her vehicle to me, so I’ll drive.”
“Nalia, I’m driving.”
“No, you’re not.” I wiggle out of his grasp and quickly walk towards the driver’s door, but he once again stops me, only this time he does it by lifting me clean off my feet. “What are you doing?” I shriek as he carries me around to the opposite side of the car.
“I’m driving.” He somehow manages to open the door while keeping hold of me.
“You’re not.” I kick my feet. “Put me down.”
“Sure.” My feet touch the ground for two seconds before he puts his hand against my stomach and uses it to fold me into the car. My ass hits the passenger seat, and I glare up at him with my chest heaving and my heart pounding.
“You did not…” Before I can finish, he snatches the keys from my hand, shoves my feet into the car, and slams the door in my face.
Beyond infuriated, I scramble across the middle console to the driver’s seat and quickly buckle myself in. Opening the door, he looks down at me and chuckles before he leans into the car. There is not enough space for the two of us, and even less as he reaches for the seatbelt. The smell of whatever body wash or cologne he uses fills my lungs with each desperate breath I take, and his hands tangle with mine as he tries to get to the seatbelt latch.
As we fumble over control of the button, his beard scrapes across my jaw, his warm breath brushes across my ear, and a tingle of awareness spreads quickly from my scalp, down my spine, pooling in the pit of my stomach.