Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
"Would you please come to karaoke tonight?" I ask.
"Will you be singing?"
"Does my answer change yours?"
She shrugs. "Depends on if you sound like Trystan."
"I won't be singing."
"Well, thank god for small favors." She beams at me. "I still don't want to go."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Maybe because you're my boss?" She throws her hands up, exasperated. "Honestly, Bastian, you'd think I wouldn't have to keep reminding you of that fact since you love lording it over me."
"I don't give a fuck if I'm your boss or not, Constance. You're going to karaoke."
"No, I'm not."
"Why the fuck not?" I ask again, my hands curled around the arms of my chair to keep myself from stomping across the room to drag her into my arms. If I get my hands on her, this will end with me nine deep and her moaning my name. As fun as that is, I want answers first.
She'll sleep in my bed every night. She'll let me fuck her over my desk—or hers—every day. But she does not want to be seen with me. I don't like it.
"Because we're not supposed to be dating!" she cries. "It's probably in the employee handbook. Thou shalt not fuck thy employees."
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "There is no handbook. And if there were, it wouldn't sound like it was etched in stone and involved a goddamn burning bush."
"Well, there should be a handbook."
"I'm not going to be your dirty secret."
She blinks wide eyes at me and then laughs abruptly. "If you think your family doesn't already know that you're the reason my office looks like a tornado hit it every freaking day, you're delusional, Bastian."
"Then what's the problem?"
Her shoulders bounce in a shrug, her gaze darting from mine.
I study her for a long, silent moment, trying to figure her out. As much as she likes to push my buttons and test me, I don't think this is that. This is…actual anxiety. I see it in the tension around her full lips, like she's afraid that if we're seen together, it might make what we're doing real.
I think that possibility scares the shit out of her.
So long as no one really sees us together, she can pretend that this is just some game we're playing and there's no chance of anyone getting hurt. But as soon as we change the rules, everything changes. There are actual stakes and risks involved, like her heart. She's fighting like hell to avoid that for a reason…and I think that reason is because she wants this so fucking badly.
I matter to her. We matter to her. This is, perhaps, the biggest chink in her armor that I've seen all week.
She's cracking. I just need to push her over the edge.
"Please come to karaoke with me," I murmur.
She blinks wide, startled eyes at me. "Did you just say please?"
"Yes. My family wants you there. I want you there."
Her expression softens. "Fine. I'll go, but only because you said please, and you probably haven't used that word since you were a toddler."
This is what it feels like to win a war, I'm sure of it. And then I remember the other reason I called her in here, and the feeling vanishes.
"Thank you. Now, why am I hearing from Gabe that you have an idea instead of hearing it from you?"
She grimaces. "Because your cousin is a traitor."
"Constance." I crook a finger, beckoning her toward me.
She eyes me warily. "If I come over there, are you going to try to get me naked?"
"Probably." I shrug.
"Then I'll stay here. I have to meet Haven in ten minutes, and you are not making me late for something else today, Bastian Grayson. We were already late to work because of that thing you did in the shower where I was on my knees and your dick was in my mouth."
Fuck, I loved that thing we did in the shower where she was on her knees, choking on my cock. And she definitely won't be making that meeting on time because now I want to do it again, behind my desk this time.
"Fine," I lie, pretending to agree to her rule. "Explain. What is this idea?"
"A contest to let one of our social media followers name the next wine. They'd send in video trailers introducing the wine to enter. We pick the top five and then let our followers vote for the winner. We get the publicity and excitement the contest will generate, and they get to be part of something here."
I turn the idea over in my mind. It has potential.
"Why didn't you bring it to me?"
She shrugs, avoiding my gaze again.
"Why, Constance?"
"I don't know!" she huffs. "I guess I thought you'd hate it. You're so protective of this place and everything involving it. I figured you'd hate turning over naming rights to some random person you've never met. You're kind of a control freak like that."