Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“I don’t suppose you have a mixer in there to go with the Vodka?” she asks.
Vance, and I chuckle. “I do not.” He reaches out and snatches the bottle, unscrewing the lid and taking a pull before passing it back to her. The distasteful face she makes when she swallows is cute as all hell.
Offering me the bottle, she winces. “I’m sorry I called you last night. I don’t remember doing it, but I saw on my phone that it was late.”
Vance stiffens, his movement highlighted by my phone propped between us. My eyes have adjusted, so I can make them both out in the shadows. I didn’t tell him she called me with her masturbation confession. Just thinking about it and seeing her in nothing but panties is sending my pulse straight to my dick.
“Did I upset your girlfriend?” Her question comes out sounding timid, presumably embarrassed about prying.
I take a pull of the vodka, letting it wash over the candy before disappearing down my throat. I watch her over the rim as I tell her, “I don’t have a girlfriend.” My voice thickens, pining her with a heated gaze.
She’s watching me from beneath her lashes, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. I’ve been so caught up in how badly I want to fuck her, own her, that I haven’t noticed her focus on me. The lingering looks, coy smiles, little wisps of breath when I accidently brush past her. The candy gift.
Poppy fucking wants me.
That realization shifts something inside me. I’d let this building crumble around us if it meant I got to fuck her in the wreckage. Fuck the job, the consequences, her fiancé. I need to fuck Poppy. Feel her nails dragging down my back as I claim her sweet pussy. She wants this.
“No girlfriend?” She tilts her head, like she’s making sure she heard me correctly. I want to bind her hair falling like a cascading caramel river around my fist.
“Nope. What about you?” I pass the bottle to Vance but keep my attention fixed on Poppy. I’ve never had this much alone time with her, and I’m going to savor every second of it. “Did your fiancé mind you calling another man at that hour?”
Vance chokes on his pull of vodka, throwing his arm over his mouth to stop from covering us in spittle. “Are you okay?” I frown, scanning him.
“You have a fiancé?” It sounds like an accusation, and I wonder if I’ve never mentioned that before. He must think I’m a snake for wanting her when she’s not available. I haven’t fucking taken what I want, though. Not yet. And not because of the fiancé. If I could, I’d make her beg and plead for my cock until she was raw in the throat. Then I’d fill it with my cock, making the fiancé watch as I come undone on her tongue.
Fuck, I’m going to hell, and I’ll gladly burn there if it’s with her taste in my mouth.
“Actually,” she sniffles, and my spine straightens. “No.” She releases a sigh then chuckles without humor. “I always thought there was something wrong with me, that I was undesirable.”
I snort, thinking she’s joking. She owns a fucking mirror. No way can she honestly believe that, right? When she doesn’t continue, guilt creeps over me. She’s not joking.
“Poppy, why would you ever think that?” I nudge her thigh with my foot. She’s crossed-legged and in shadow, but even now, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
She takes Vance’s bottle of vodka and chugs it, making a weird sound in the back of her throat as her body revolts at the taste.
“Josh, my fiancé, is gay,” she announces, gritting her teeth and then laughing again.
“What?” Vance leans forward to hear her better.
She covers her face with her hands then throws them up in the air. “I went home to surprise him yesterday with some sexy underwear on and found him fucking Eric.”
When her red lace panties filter through my thoughts, I have to adjust my semi-hard cock to alleviate the ache.
“Who’s Eric?” Confusion has me arching a brow.
She holds a hand to her mouth and shakes her head before her response rushes out. “His cousin.” Squealing, she throws her head back and laughs, making her whole body shake while I silently will the bow to dislodge and show me her tits. “OMG, how crazy is that? I can’t believe I’m telling you.”
“Your fiancé is fucking his own cousin?” Sounding like he wants to confirm he has the facts straight, Vance shifts again, his stupid fucking horns tapping me on the head.
“Yes. And he’s a boy,” she adds, bopping her head up and down.
Cringing, I blow air through my teeth. That's fucking awful. I’m pretty sure Robert—my assistant, who she’s covering for—told me she moved here to be with her fiancé while he finishes an internship. She uprooted her life for him, and this is how he repays her?