Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
My phone rings as I step outside, and I see Arlo’s name pop up on my screen. I’m contemplating not answering it.
Will he ask about the kiss last night?
Will he ask to see me again?
Just as I think it, I realize I’m wrong. He’s requesting my presence. He wants me to deliver the paperwork.
Lifting the phone to my ear, I take a deep breath before I speak. “Hello.”
“You sent someone else when the request was that you deliver it personally?” he growls into the phone, and I hear a door click shut in the background.
“Yes. I had an urgent meeting to attend to.”
“You know my stipulations. Bring them yourself if you want them signed.”
“You’re extremely bossy.” I bite the inside of my cheek at my sudden outburst. I blame the hangover.
“Yes, I am. In more ways than one.” He continues when I don’t say anything. “I’ll see you soon, correct?”
“I’m on my way over now,” I tell him, and then hang up.
My office is on the way to his, so I stop in quickly to collect the paperwork I need. With the files in hand, I head down the hall and step into his waiting room, expecting to see a client or two. Instead, it’s empty except for the receptionist.
“Oh, good, you’re here. I can take my break,” she says, standing and grabbing her phone, which throws me off for a second. Before I can ask, she adds, “He told me to tell you to go straight in.”
“Where are his patients?” I question.
“He canceled all his appointments for the day,” she says with a shrug before rounding the desk and heading out the door, leaving me standing in the waiting room, stunned.
Why would he cancel his appointments?
I don’t get it.
Just as I think about dropping the paperwork on the desk and walking out, his office door opens, and he appears.
“Cora.” He nods and holds the door open for me, and I’m frozen in place, clutching the paperwork as I lock eyes with him.
This man.
I can’t work him out.
I know he likes to say I’m hard to read, but so is he.
“Are you thinking of running?” He raises a perfect brow as he adds, “I like it when they run.”
“‘They?” I question.
He doesn’t answer, just motions for me to enter the office. Taking a deep breath, I manage to compose myself and put one sky-high heel in front of the other as I make my way over to him. Once I’m seated, I hear the click of the door shutting. Without looking at Arlo, I wait for him to take his seat across from me. Except he doesn’t do that at all. He sits next to me on the sofa.
Shuffling the paperwork, I find the place where I need him to sign. Reaching into my purse, I grab a pen. Then I turn toward him and hand it to him. He stares at me, not even making a move to take the paperwork.
“I need you to sign. I have many other things I need to attend to today,” I tell him.
“Do you want to talk about the kiss?” he asks, still not taking the damn paperwork.
“No, I would rather not.”
“So, you do remember.” His lip twitches.
“I do. So, if you could please…” I hold the pen out to him.
“How was it for you? Did you enjoy it?”
I shoot him a confused look as I ask, “The kiss?”
“Yes, the kiss.”
“From what I can remember, it was quite enjoyable,” I reply. I see something flash behind his eyes at my response before he nods.
“Enjoyable. What an interesting word to use,” he muses as he looks down at the pen still in my outstretched hand.
“How would you describe it?” I ask.
He takes the pen then, and I place my hand in my lap.
“I think I could kiss you better.” Arlo fixes his gaze on the paperwork as he leans over the table, signs it, and when he’s done, he hands me the pen but doesn’t let go when I try to take it. Then he looks me dead in the eye and adds, “On your cunt.”
Holy hell! His words shock me.
So much so that when he lets go of the pen, I do too, and it drops on the floor.
A slow and steady smirk attaches itself to his lips. “It upsets you that I use that word.”
“It’s vulgar,” I whisper, trying valiantly to ignore the pulsing in my core from the way his mouth moved on that hard C.
“Is it? I think not.”
I lean over and pick up the pen, then put it into my bag. When I sit up, he clasps my chin and angles my head ever so slowly to face him, dragging his fingers over my face and down to my neck. I feel the goosebumps breaking out where he’s touched me.