Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Please,” Evelyn says with a laugh. “You’re still young. Your whole life is stretched out in front of you. We’ll brainstorm some ideas when you get here. Speaking of which, I know someone who’ll be very upset if you don’t show up soon.”
Despite the heaviness of our conversation, my lips lift into a smile. “Steele will survive without his lucky charm at the game for five minutes.” Even as I say it, I can picture the Railers star center’s mock-wounded expression. He’s been calling me his good luck charm ever since I started attending his games in college. Although, I’m pretty sure his talent and natural ability have more to do with his skills than my presence in the stands.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I say, reaching for Devon’s office door handle and pushing it open.
The sight that greets me has my entire world screeching to a halt before spinning off its axis. The room might be dimly lit, but there’s more than enough light to see everything that’s happening inside.
And I do mean everything.
Marissa, one of the firm’s lawyers, is draped across Devon’s desk as he pounds into her from behind. He’s got a firm hold on her ponytail as his other hand grips her waist. Every thrust has a moan falling from her lips. His eyes are screwed shut as he continues to fuck her.
“Yeah, baby. That feels so good.” He smacks her ass, and the crack of flesh rings throughout the room. “You like that, don’t you?”
“God, yes,” she groans. “No one’s ever fucked me so hard.”
My heart does this weird thing where it simultaneously stops and tries to leap out of my chest when he slaps her rounded backside for a second time. The phone in my hand feels more like a brick as it drops to my side.
I blink, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
There’s no way this can be real.
I release a choked noise, and Devon’s eyes fly open, meeting mine as his body stills. I’m frozen in place as our gazes stay locked from across the room.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“That’s right, baby. Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk in the morning,” Marissa demands.
The worst part is the conflict that flashes across his face.
I clear my throat. “By all means, Devon, please finish, and make sure you give it to her hard.”
With a gasp, Marissa jerks upright. Though, she doesn’t get far with Devon’s tight grip on her hair.
As I stare at them in morbid fascination, one thought keeps circling in my mind—
All the times we had sex, he never touched me like that.
Not once.
Maybe things between us would’ve been different if he had.
“What are you doing here, Lilah? I thought you’d be at the game by now,” he asks.
My jaw drops.
The question hits harder than the slap to Marissa’s perky ass.
What am I doing here?
The man can’t even be bothered with a half-assed this isn’t what it looks like, which, let’s be honest, would have been laughable because it’s exactly what it looks like.
“Seriously? That’s all you have to say when I walk in on you fucking another woman?”
He pulls out of her before stuffing his softening cock back inside his slacks and zipping them. Marissa scrambles up, her hands fluttering over her rumpled skirt, attempting to smooth it back into place. Her silk blouse is hanging open, and there’s lipstick smeared across her face. She averts her gaze without so much as an apology.
Instead of rushing for damage control, Devon exhales a slow and deliberate breath.
My heart slams painfully against my rib cage as I wait for an explanation.
“Lilah? Darling? What’s going on?”
That’s when I realize Aunt Evelyn is still on the phone.
With my gaze pinned to Devon, I raise my cell to my mouth. “Let me call you back.”
I cut the connection with a single trembling press of my thumb. The rage that crashes over me is almost blinding as my hands shake with the fury boiling beneath my skin.
Devon clears his throat before straightening his tie. “What would you like me to say?”
My spine stiffens at his lack of contrition. “How about you’re sorry for hurting me? That might be a good place to start.”
He steps forward. “Would that change anything?”
I shake my head, the truth sinking in. “No. It won’t.”
“Then what’s the point?”
My face scrunches as I parrot the question. “What’s the point? Are you really asking me that?”
He settles on the edge of the desk. “Look, I’m sorry you walked in and saw what you did. I know that must’ve hurt.”
My mouth drops open. “Is that your half-assed attempt at an apology?”
He drags a hand through his already mussed hair, looking nothing like the man I thought I knew and loved.
“I suppose it is,” he says quietly.
A rough laugh breaks from my throat. It’s hollow, disbelieving, and edged with more hurt than I care to admit.