Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 44860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Please let that be it.
But instead it was the opposite, with more people entering at twenty-two, and then twenty-five. The physics of the situation simply overruled her, and the next thing she knew they were completely pressed against each other, and there was no mistaking the lethally masculine power he radiated through the fabric of his suit.
Oh no.
The scent of his aftershave reached her first. It wasn't overpowering like the lady's perfume from earlier. It was more subtle. But also...more complicated. She couldn't explain if this had more to do with the man wearing the scent or the scent itself, but there was just something about it that made Chelsea want to lean closer rather than further away.
Control yourself, Chelsea Regis!
She pressed her fingernails into the quilted fabric of her case, but it was no use. Her body, which had been "dormant" for years, suddenly felt more alive than ever, and it was all because of...him.
The scent that she couldn't get enough of. The masculine strength that his powerful form radiated. Everything about him was just so...oh, how to put what she was feeling into words?
There was just something about him that had every nerve ending from her collarbones to the backs of her knees straining, just yearning and helplessly aching to close the last millimeter of distance between her and the warm wall of his back and just...stay there.
I think I'm going crazy.
Because this...this didn't make sense. The way she could feel his breathing and how every breath he drew mattered. To her. Meanwhile, her own breathing had gone completely rogue, shallow and fast and happening at a rate that she hoped he didn't notice.
But alas, it wasn't to be.
Because Olivio did notice.
And the fact that he did had Olivio gritting his teeth.
He had never been the type of man who was so easily affected by mere proximity. No matter how beautiful a woman was, he had never struggled to maintain his control, and it was always the woman who ended up begging, always the woman who ended up succumbing first.
But this time...
This girl who was now his wife...
Everything about her was different.
She wasn't even touching him, but the impact of her just being near to him was maddening. In fact, he was experienced enough to know it was the opposite, with how Chelsea was doing her rigid best to hold herself away to keep her body from coming into contact with his.
He had no idea if that was her being coy or something else. All he knew was how hard she was trying not to press against him, and she was just trying so hard that she didn't realize it was making things worse for both of them, her efforts turning into an unbearable tension that was just a touch away from turning into attraction and desire.
By Floor 26, someone shifted, the compression increasing by a degree, and her forehead came to rest against his back. It was the slightest of contact, the lightest of pressure. It was also completely accidental because in the next second, she had jerked away as if burned, and her reaction had his hand, the one in his pocket, closing into a fist.
This was not the first time a woman had stumbled against him in a crowded elevator, whether accidental or on purpose (and more often than not it was the latter). But this was the first time that his own body had reacted, the first time that he found himself actually fighting against the urge to manufacture another accident—-
I must be losing my mind.
—-so that she would come into contact with him again.
Oblivious to how Olivio was struggling to contain his own reactions, Chelsea nearly went boneless with relief when most of the passengers stepped out of the elevator as soon as its doors opened at the 28th floor.
Note to self: 28/F is the cafeteria.
Where to find food was always a good thing to know, but right now she was just glad—-so, so glad—-that she could finally start breathing again, and it became even easier once Olivio had moved away, and there was absolutely no chance at all for her to stumble against him like earlier.
Phew.
She could feel him studying her once again, but she still couldn't make herself meet his gaze. It felt too soon, and she just wasn't ready. She would only look into his eyes once she was sure she had the courage to confront whatever she would find, and that would only happen once she figured out two things.
What did she feel about him...and what God wanted her to do moving forward.
Olivio had sufficiently regained his composure by the time the doors opened at his floor. Edgar led the girl out, and his gaze turned hooded as he followed behind them, not wanting the others to see just how closely he was studying her.