Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“That doesn’t mean anything.” I catch a glimpse of myself in the window, my shirt askew. Nipples still hard enough to take out an eye. “Sex doesn’t mean anything.” I pull the sides together, unable to look at him suddenly. “I can’t believe I let this happen again.” My voice sounds hard, though I’m mostly angry with myself.
“I thought… last night.” He stands, his eyes careful as they follow me.
“Last night shouldn’t have happened. This shouldn’t have happened. Please don’t ask to see me alone again because I won’t.”
He cants his head. “Until next time.”
At first glance, looks unbothered, casually leaning back against his desk. But there’s something about the action that seems forced.
“There won’t be a next time.”
Somewhere outside, a lawn mower starts up, and I think of the staff milling around the grounds dressed in dusty green overalls. The thought of being seen again makes my skin feel clammy.
“Primrose.” The way he says my name, it’s like he’s mildly disappointed. “No one is forcing you into this.”
“I know that.” Just as I know I shouldn’t be here. But when I’m next to him, it’s like all my good sense just falls out of my head.
“Do you think you don’t deserve to know the pleasure of sex?”
“I know I do.” I know that now. “I’m not broken.”
“No, you’re not. Not for me.”
My answer is an unhappy-sounding laugh as I swipe up my shorts. First, he pushes me out of the door, then I let him lift me to the kitchen countertop and go to town on me. And now this, on his desk—with his children milling around!
I am so angry with myself right now—and angry with him.
“I suppose it’s time to test that hypothesis,” I mutter, stabbing my legs into my shorts.
“Hypothesis?” I glance up as he rises from the desk as I imagine Poseidon would surge from the sea. Except Poseidon’s shirt wouldn’t look like it’s spent time at the bottom of the ocean’s laundry basket. “Test it how?” he demands.
I continue fastening my shirt, taking care to match each pair; button to correct buttonhole. No mean feat when his angry tone feels like a finger curling inside me. Why, I don’t know. I tuck my shirt into the waistband and take a moment to smooth the hair from my face. Then I force myself to look at him. Oh, man, he looks pissed.
“Obviously,” I begin evenly, “with someone else.” Wow, where did that come from?
“Who?” he almost bellows.
“Alejandro.” I pivot and make for the door—vite! vite!—despite my Bambi-esque legs.
25
PRIMROSE
Oh, bloody hell, I think as I hurry away. I can’t believe I did it again, that I let my body rule my mind. I let his mouth rule the entirety of me! Aural and oral, the whole shebang. But at least we didn’t…
I love nothing about how this situation makes me feel.
Dominant Dad turns Naive Nanny Nympho.
The ridiculous phrase I hurled at him rattles through my head. It was meant to be an insult—something I accused him of thinking about! But, right now, I’m wondering if the outburst was subliminal. There seems to be more than a drop of truth in it. He is a little domineering, and I seem to be into the dynamic.
It’s utter stupidity—complete selfishness.
I try very hard to ignore the way my body still throbs thanks to his mesmerizingly talented tongue as I hurry by a console table and its tastefully styled objet d’art. My steps suddenly falter as my brain’s early warning system detects a gecko on the wall high above it.
I hyperventilate a little, but eventually peel myself from the opposite wall and hurry onward. I know I said I’d take Sylvie to the pool, but what I want to do is get into bed and pull the blankets over my own head. This isn’t me, this creature who can’t control her own impulse. I’m the person who always does the right thing—even when there’s no one watching.
Five minutes with Luc, and logic, principles, and my sense of decency all fly out the window. But that’s on me. I am entirely the author of my own undoing.
Alejandro, why the heck did I have to mention him? I think with an internal groan. It must’ve been the noise of the lawnmowers, not that the reason makes any difference. I shouldn’t have said it—I just let my mouth run away with me.
No thanks, M. LDH, I won’t need your services again. I just need to make sure I’m not broken by spreading my sexual wings, starting by shagging one of your men, m’kay?
Spoiler alert: it was not m’kay. It was not m’kay at all.
I should’ve been less specific—I shouldn’t have used Al’s name. Should I warn him? Urgh, I can’t admit I’ve used him as bait, inadvertently or not, because then I’d have to admit to—at a bare minimum—having those kinds of conversations. With our boss.