Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Dawson’s jaw goes slack, and his eyes widen in shock that I not only assaulted him with my finger but with my words. He recovers quickly, though, heat burning in his gaze before he unleashes that huge, deeply dimpled grin. The air is knocked clean out of me as I force a saccharine smile before I turn on my heel. My heart is beating so hard, it’s practically coming out of my chest as I pray I’m going the right way.
It isn’t until I’m in some kind of meeting room that I let out the breath I was holding.
The breath that Dawson stole straight from my lungs with just that smile of his. Or is it the fact that I may have just ruined any kind of professional relationship with his parents?
I press my hand to my pounding chest as if I can stop my heart from coming out. I’m pretty sure if I didn’t have ribs and tits, that sucker would be lying on the floor, laughing at me for being so stupid.
Yeah, that totally has to be the reason I’m gasping for breath.
His parents.
Not him.
Totally.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Dawson
I feel all eyes on me.
I’m pretty sure even the custodian who was working on the bleachers saw what happened.
Their stares have my skin crawling and my blood burning in my veins.
They saw that girl, a girl I had no clue existed, put me in my place.
A fucking stunner of a girl.
Damn glad I’m wearing a girdle to hide the fact that I’m harder than a stack of frozen pucks.
She left me with a showstopping grin that she has to know ties guys like me in knots.
A grin I feel like I know from somewhere.
But surely I’d remember meeting her.
What is this feeling? Why do I have the need to chase her? I don’t chase women. They chase me, beg me to give them my attention, and then I move on.
But not her.
This is odd. My need to go after her has to be because she wasn’t impressed with me like I was with her. I need to ignore this, her, and move on. I’ve got things to do—careers to pick and lives to change.
Yet…
I hold up one finger when my dad scoffs. “Not a word.”
Then I look at Louis. “Throw me my guards.”
My brother’s eyes are so wide it’s comical as he reaches for my teal skate guards before tossing them to me. I catch them, putting them on my skates before stalking after her. When my parents start to protest, I throw up a hand. “Give me ten.”
My dad grumbles something, but I have one thing on my mind.
Ambrosia fucking Mercer.
I find her bracing herself on the table in one of the meeting rooms. Her shoulders are rising and falling with each hard intake of breath. Her face and neck are beet red, and I love the way her lips are pursed as she breathes in and out through her nose. From where I stand, I can take in the luscious curve of her thick ass, her wide hips, and her fucking sexy thighs. She’s got the kind of curves that make a man want to go 100 miles per hour along them just to feel the rush.
Me. I’m that man.
And if I go off a cliff, I’ll go a happy man.
This has to be lust and the need to ease my stung ego. She didn’t even give me the time of day, then when she did, she laughed in my face.
Now I want her choking on my cock after she suffocates me with her thighs.
Yup, lust.
But I take a step toward her. I lick my bottom lip as a smirk pulls at the side of my mouth. “Did you really flick my nose?”
Ambrosia’s head whips up, her wide eyes meeting mine straight on. I’ll give it to her; she’s got a pair of balls on her. Her shoulders push back, the shirt straining against her ample breasts, as she schools her features. Her whiskey-colored eyes flare with defiance before she crosses her arms below her great set of tits. The movement only brings my gaze to where her cleavage is begging to be let out of that shirt of hers. I want to nuzzle my face between them. Pull her nipples between my teeth and suck her until she’s screaming my name.
“Eyes up here, Sinclair.”
My grin grows, but I don’t apologize. “Fantastic view.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re disgusting.”
“I am only admiring a gorgeous woman. Do you not check me out?”
Her pause tells me she does, but she says, “Absolutely not.”
Fuck, she’s cute. “Sure,” I draw out sarcastically. “And why did you flick my nose?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “Because you were being arrogant.”
I feel my brows rise. “By disagreeing with your theory?”
“With absolutely no skin in the game,” she throws at me. I really like that she knows sports. Huge turn-on for me. Usually, girls go for me because I’m an athlete, I’m big, and I have money. Apparently nothing about me appeals to Ms. Mercer here, though.