Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
"You are good enough for me," I whisper, my voice fierce. "You're the best thing for me."
"Good," he grunts. "Then there's no reason for you to object to marrying me."
"You didn't even ask me," I complain.
"I just told you that I'm not stupid, baby." He nips my throat, hooking my leg up over his hip. "I'm not asking. I'm going to fuck you until you agree."
"Don't you dare!" I hiss.
But he dares. Of course he dares. And he wins. I let him think it's because he's exhausted me into submission, but that's not really it. The simple truth is…I'm not stupid either. I'm dying to be his wife.
He can't be any more of a control freak as a husband than he was as a boss…right?
Chapter Twelve
Bastian
"Hell no," I growl, glaring at Constance across my office. "We are not hiring him."
"Oh, yes, we are!" she snaps back at me, her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. And frankly, I've never wanted to bend her over my desk and fuck the fight out of her more than I do right now. It's pure self-preservation at this point. Now that I'm not her boss, I have absolutely no say unless I'm inside her, fucking her into submission.
And right now, I need her to submit. Hell will freeze over before she hires Gideon Snow to work with her. Fuck that. He wouldn't stop fucking smiling at her the entire goddamn time he was here. At least, not until I told him to get the hell out of my office.
"You're not my boss anymore, Bastian," she reminds me. As if she's let me forget that once in the three weeks since we returned from Los Angeles. She says it at least five times a day, usually when she's doing something she knows damn well that I'm going to hate. "You don't get to decide who I hire. And Gideon is the best man for the job."
"Baby." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I'll give you anything you want, but if you hire him, I'm going to prison for murder. Is that really what you want?"
An amused laugh tumbles from her lips. "What are you talking about?"
"Prison. Murder," I growl. How was I not clear enough about that the first time I said it? "If I have to watch that prick smile at you like that every day, I'm going to lose it."
"He wasn't smiling at me."
"Uh, yes, the fuck he was."
"Oh my god." Constance brings her hand to her lips, a loud peal of laughter spilling across my office. "You've lost your mind, do you know that?"
Fucking clearly. I lost it the day she came in for her interview.
I haul myself to my feet, stomping across the office toward her. "We aren't hiring him," I growl when we're toe to toe, her tits against my chest.
"We are," she says, tilting her head back to smile up at me like the goddamn cat that ate the canary. "You know why we're hiring him?"
"Because you want me to snap?"
"Because when he met Haven, he couldn't keep his eyes off her," she says. "And Haven was so tongue-tied, she asked for his dick of birth instead of his date of birth."
"Jesus Christ." I blink at her. "She really said that?"
"Yep." My fiancée laughs again, another loud peal of laughter. "I thought she was going to crawl beneath her desk, especially when he wouldn't stop teasing her about it. They like each other. So he has to come to work here. Otherwise, how are they going to get married?"
"Fuck my life." I tip my head back, staring up at the ceiling. Giving her my shares of the winery was the absolute worst and best decision of my life. She's so goddamn happy every minute of the day. And I'm in hell every minute of the day because she's a terrorist.
If having her as an employee was hell on my peace of mind, having her working here, knowing there isn't a fucking thing I can do to control her, is even worse. She rules my entire world. I'm supposed to be getting more work done now that she isn't my employee. Do you know how that's working out?
It fucking isn't. That's how.
I spend all my time trying to think up excuses to get her into my office so I can get her naked again. It was a helluva lot easier when she was right down the hall.
"We're hiring him," she says, pushing her way into my arms. "You're just going to have to live with it, Bastian. It's my decision."
I back her up against the wall with a grunt, well aware that I've already lost this argument. That's fine, though. Doesn't mean she isn't going to pay for it. "Fine," I mutter, pinning her hands above her head. "Then you get to make it up to me on your knees."