Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Our walk to the elevator is solemn, void of the electricity that usually zaps between us. After entering on the heels of Roach and Felicity, I move to the glass wall Jack had me pinned to earlier.
The slow descent of the elevator to the lobby is tortuous.
It felt super-fast only hours ago.
I offer Jack’s security detail a tight grin when he meets us at the entry door with an umbrella. “Thank you, Fitz,” Jack mutters when Fitz’s dedication sees us entering the back of his town car without a drop of rain frizzing my hair. “We’ll take it from here.”
Not speaking another word, Jack closes the door with us on one side and Fitz on the other side, gestures for the driver to go, then raises the privacy partition between us and the back of the driver’s head.
The silence is excruciating. It twists my chest with pain. I hardly know the man seated next to me, but I know him well enough to know when he’s hurting.
“Is everything okay?” I query, no longer capable of ignoring the tension ridding the air of oxygen. “I didn’t mean to upset you today. I just—”
“It wasn’t anything you did, Octavia. It was presumptuous for me to assume you’d want anything from me.” Since his tone is honest yet heartbreaking, I don’t argue. I just wait patiently for the Mr. Carson shield he’s been wearing most of the day to disappear and for Jack to arrive.
When that happens, his solemn mood makes sense. “I had a meeting this afternoon. An associate was meant to attend on my behalf, but his wife fell ill.”
I suck in a sharp breath when it dawns on me that the reminder I saw on his phone Sunday morning was for this afternoon. If his meeting was with who I suspect, they’re never pleasant.
My theory is proven when Jack stammers out, “They… ah… never go as planned.” He scrubs at the back of his neck before a rare smile for this evening pops onto his face. It eases the turmoil but has me desperate to find a way to keep it on his face forever when he murmurs, “And since I wasn’t in the right mind frame to discuss business, they tried to take advantage.” Remorse floods his eyes when he locks them with mine. “I’m sorry if you were forced out of your comfort zone today. That was not my intention. I will never force you to do anything against your wishes—” He stops talking when I toss off my seat belt and bridge the small gap between us. “Tivy…”
“Shh,” I murmur against his lips before dragging my tongue across them. I can’t take away his pain. I can’t change it, but I sure as hell can help him forget it for an hour or two. “I’ve got you.”
My worry that some of our spark dulled due to my theatrics today is tossed out the window when my kiss causes Jack to swell beneath me. He wasn’t hard when I crawled onto his lap, but within a nanosecond of our lips locking, he’s thick enough for me to grind against him without any hindrance.
Our kiss is hard and bruising, filled with both need and want. Jack’s hand is in my hair, holding my mouth to his as the other fondles and explores the extra hot inches of my body.
“God, Octavia,” he murmurs against my mouth, his breaths hot against my lips. “When you ran today, I thought I’d lost you… that I had lost this.”
“No,” I deny, my head shaking, almost causing tears to trickle down my cheeks. “I ran because I was scared.” I brush his thumbs with my cheeks like they’re as wet as mine before confessing, “I don’t want to be bought. No one wants to be bought.” I kiss him again to ensure he can’t misunderstand my reply. I’m not blaming his actions today. I am blaming my grandfather. “But I shouldn’t have run. Running doesn’t fix anything.”
My move to Seattle is proof of this.
As we kiss, the tension hanging thickly in the air dissipates, and a hungry, wanton need takes over. When I drag my tongue along the roof of his mouth, Jack growls before deepening our kiss. He strokes his tongue along mine before tasting every inch of my mouth.
I kiss him back just as hungrily, my skin dampening along with the crevice between my legs.
“Jack…”
He can’t shush me this time since he’s too busy peppering my neck with teasing kisses, but I don’t need words to know he will fulfill my every want. The creeping of his hand between my legs is a sure-fire sign of this, not to mention the heaviness behind the zipper of his trousers.
The friction as I rock against him is amazing, and within seconds, the cab of his car is roasting, and I’m on the verge of begging.