Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Yep. I have your dossier ready to go.”
“Right. Thank you.” I swallowed and gave myself exactly half a second to find my famed self-control. There was an audible click on the intercom that told me Mrs. Donaldson had hung up.
“Oh my God.” Daisy bolted off my lap like I’d bitten her, arranging her skirts as she backed away from my desk. Her cheeks were flush, her lips swollen, and her eyes…they made me want to tell my eleven o’clock to go to hell so I could lay Daisy out over the conference table and finish what we started. Her hand rose to her lips. “Asher…I never meant to…I’m so….” Now there was pure misery in those brown depths, and it turned my stomach.
“So help me God, if you say you’re sorry, I’m going to lose it.” I stood, blatantly arranging my dick into a semi-comfortable position. Her gaze followed every second. “I think we solved your…positioning problem, right?”
Holy shit, as excuses went, that was a lame one, but all the blood that was supposed to be in my brain had flown south.
She nodded. “Yep. I got it. Manhandle.”
“Great. I’m going down to the meeting.” I raked my hand over my hair and buttoned my jacket. Hopefully, I’d be able to hide my current state behind my folder like I was back in fucking high school.
“I’m going to sit on this one,” Daisy muttered, her gaze still locked on my cock. “I mean, out. I’m sitting this one out to get this scene down.”
“Down would be great,” I muttered. Then I walked out, grabbing the leather portfolio from Mrs. Donaldson, not so much as pausing as I headed straight for the elevator.
What the hell had I just done?
And when could I do it again?
6
DAISY
Asher’s hands on my hips, gliding over my stomach and up to my chin, tilting my head so he could kiss me at a better angle.
The way his lips pressed against mine with the perfect amount of pressure and dominance. The way his tongue swept in to tease and explore, almost like he was savoring the experience.
The way my body ignited, sitting on his lap, feeling his powerful body against mine, his scent swirling around me, consuming me, intoxicating me…
“What are you in the mood for tonight?” Asher’s voice cut through the memory I hadn’t been able to shake for the past six days.
My cheeks flared as I blinked out of the images in my head, finding Asher’s hazel eyes on me as he casually leaned back in the seat at his designated table in the restaurant.
I want more.
More kissing. More touching. More exploring.
“I’m not sure,” I managed to say, focusing on the menu before me even though I knew it by heart. It was one of Asher’s favorite restaurants in the city, and he’d brought me here more than once during my time shadowing him.
Time that was almost up.
My heart sank at that reality, and I mentally chided myself. I’d known this was a one-month deal. Known it wouldn’t last forever. And not once in the beginning had I thought I’d want more time with him. I mean, he woke up at four thirty, for fuck’s sake. He worked out every single day without fail and he constantly gave me looks when I crunched on my favorite KitKat writer snack. How could I possibly want to drag this out any longer?
Because you like him.
“Maybe the sea bass?” I said when I noticed he was still studying me.
“It is phenomenal here,” he said just as our server headed over to our table. We placed our orders and she mercifully brought our drinks over in record time. I took a nice long sip of my chilled glass of Prosecco and did my best to breathe.
But it was hard when I felt like the final days approaching with Asher were slipping away from me and that I’d never again feel what I felt when I was with him. I didn’t just want more of his searing kiss or his delightfully strong body against mine. I wanted more of him.
Wanted to listen to him vent when a meeting didn’t go the way he’d hoped.
Wanted to watch his eyes light up when he spoke about his team, the Reapers.
Wanted to sit in silence with him, me writing and him poring over emails in that content way we’d adapted the last few weeks.
Hell, I’d even started to enjoy the workouts with him in the morning and had to admit it did jump-start my brain, not that I’d ever admit that to him.
“You think your team will be able to find the suppliers to help you get the production costs down on the safety gear line?” I asked him after a few more sips.
I shoved my thoughts deep down where they couldn’t suddenly burst from my lips and give me away. Because in all honesty, I highly doubted Asher was feeling the same sense of regret that the month of ours was almost over. I definitely didn’t fit into his perfect schedule and the kiss had merely been a fleeting moment fueled by the circumstances of the scene I was writing. That’s all.