Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Fuck, what am I doing to myself? I only started this to keep her mind off David.
Now my heart’s hammering and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted like this before.
She shuts the door and turns to face me, back against the knob, as far from me as she can get.
“Don’t do that again,” she warns, eyes shining with desire. She smooths her shirt. “We can’t… you know… in the office. Not if I’m going to keep working for you.”
“You’re not saying you don’t want me to touch you.”
“We can’t, okay? No, seriously, you make all the jokes you want, but you’re still my boss and our whole relationship is business. If we start… complicating things…”
“You want complicated. Come sit back in my lap and find out how much I want it too.”
“Stop.” She jams the heel of her palm into her forehead. “Shit. This is stupid.”
“I want to hike that skirt up and spank your pretty ass until you—“
“Prime!” She groans, shaking her head. “Could you please stop it? If you don’t want to talk about your meeting with David, say so, you don’t have to do this… whole… thing to keep my mind off it.”
I let out a low, rumbling snarl, and stand, leaning over my desk. “I want to fuck you, Deanna, not because it’s convenient or useful… but because every time I get near you, it’s like my skin’s on fire and my nerves are finally waking up.”
Her mouth hangs open in shock. I doubt anyone’s ever spoken to her like that before, but I say what I want and I don’t bullshit. If I want to fuck a woman, I tell her, and she can decide if she wants it too.
“Next time you see him, tell David I said hello.” She turns, ready to escape, chest heaving.
“Wait.”
“If this is about wanting to spank me—“ Her hand is on the doorknob.
“It’s about tomorrow night.”
That makes her hesitate. She looks over her shoulder. “What about it?”
“There’s a dinner we’re going to. It’s with an associate of mine.”
“I can schedule your car—“
“You’re coming as my wife, remember? Not as my assistant.”
“Oh. Right.” She flips open her planner. “Should I put it on the books?”
“Absolutely not. Tomorrow night is partially why I married you.”
“For a single dinner meeting?”
“No, but for events like it. There are people who will be judging me. People I want to… impress.”
A sly smile spreads across her face. “Prime Spadaro, are you nervous right now?”
“Never in my fucking life.”
“Good, because despite how annoyed I am with you right now, you are very charming. They’ll love you.”
I lower myself into my chair and lean back. “And they’ll love you by my side. Be ready for it.”
“Is that all, boss?”
“Either come back over here and get on your knees or get the fuck out of this office so I can take care of myself.”
She groans and gets the hell out of there.
Fucking Deanna. I look at the ceiling and scrub fingers through my hair, tugging with frustration. I’m not actually going to jerk off right here and now, but I have to stop teasing myself with her. She’s right, our relationship is complicated, and we don’t need to make it worse by throwing ourselves into sex too.
Even if that’s what I want.
CHAPTER 15
DEANNA
Six bags are lined up on the bed.
Fendi. Prada. Gucci. Each one filled with clothes and perched on top of a small stack of dress boxes. I stare in pure astonishment before a glimmer of anger rustles up through my core.
“Prime!”
I find my husband in the game room, which isn’t ideal. He’s bent over the pool table lining up a shot, and I swear, he’s doing this on purpose. He knew I’d want to talk, and he’s making damn sure he’s in the one place in the house that makes me feel very unbalanced.
“Yes, darling?” His aim is perfect and a ball clatters into the corner pocket. He straightens and chalks the tip of his cue, his eyes on mine. “Something the matter?”
Don’t get distracted, damn it.
“What’s with the clothes? You’re dressing me now?”
“I wasn’t personally putting them on your body, but if you need help—“
“You know what I mean. What’s the deal?”
“I didn’t realize a husband buying his wife some presents is such a problem.”
I get flustered at that. “You’ve never gotten me anything before. I didn’t know… I wasn’t sure…”
His smile is acid. “You’re my bride now, and I’m going to make sure you look the part too.”
“There it is!” The anger returns. “You don’t think my clothes are good enough.”
“I love the way you dress. That tight skirt, the black one with the subtle pattern? You had it on yesterday when I slipped my hand between your legs. And that navy blouse that’s always a bit too loose in the chest and gives me a lovely peek of your tits whenever you bend over? Or the cream sweater—“