Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
"I can agree with that," I tell him. "When do you think the kissing might start?"
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I feel it all over my body. When he shrugs, an easy smile on his lips, I want to stomp my foot like a toddler not getting their way.
Chapter 20
Rooster
I'm aware of every movement she makes.
If she shifts in her chair, I sense it. If her hands reposition on her lap, I'm cognizant of it.
I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that sex with her would be explosive. Just seeing her pulse throb at the base of her throat does things to my body. Her hands on me, even with as limited as that has been, set me on fire clear to the core of my body.
The idea of my mouth on hers, my tongue trailing her skin, the taste of her pussy on my tongue makes it nearly impossible not to close the distance between us, lay her out on the conference room table, and bury my head between her legs.
I have a lot of control, but I don't know that I could resist her, short of staying here, locked in place behind my computer, or getting up and walking away like I did the other night.
If she stood up and walked toward me, my hands would be on her hips the second she was within reach. I'm so grateful she may be considering taking things slow and us getting to know each other better rather than pushing the issue because I'd fold like a wet paperback if she pushed even a little bit.
"But that's like five steps," she says, her eyes locked on my little farm on the television.
"Six," I clarify. "If you count having to change the wheat into flour."
"That seems excessive," she mutters, but there's a smile on her face.
"It has to be done in real-life food manufacturing," I remind her. "Bread doesn't just grow in a field."
"I know that. How often do you play this instead of working?"
I grin as I click a few more buttons, the television that she can see flashing with all the programs I have running in the background. "I'm working. This is what I do so I don't do something I could get into trouble for because I'm bored."
"So you know how to break the law using your computer, but you just don't?"
"Right," I tell her, not really going into detail about the fine line I have to walk and how sometimes I might dip my toe on the other side, but always because it's an emergency and usually life or death.
"That has to be hard."
"Some days are harder than others," I confess. "But there has to be a line because it's the only thing that keeps me one of the good guys rather than one of the bad guys. It's like anything else that could cause problems in your life. Maybe a little peek at something you aren't supposed to look at is fine, but the next day, you go a little deeper until the Feds are banging on your door."
She scrunches her nose. "I feel like that may have happened to you before."
"More than once," I confess. "Henry was always up to something."
"Is there anything he ever did that was good?"
I swallow as I think about my brother. Even after all that he’s done, I can't say that I hate him. I don't know if I'm even capable of that. I know our parents washed their hands of him long ago because of the repeated bouts of trouble he got into, which put a rift between them and me. I just can't understand turning your back on your child no matter what they did. You can still love someone and not be happy with how they've chosen to live their lives.
"He never blamed me for what he did," I tell her. "He never set me up to go down for something he was responsible for. Not even after I reported him when we were teens. He'd do stuff to make me mad, but when the authorities came knocking, he always shouldered the blame."
"He loves you," she whispers.
"In his own way, I guess."
"Morgan?"
We both look toward the conference room door at the sound of her name being called, and I'm out of my seat, walking toward her before she can fully stand.
"It was nice spending time with you," I tell her. "Maybe we'll see each other again this evening?"
Her eyes find mine, and I swear, even with everything we've talked about, she seems a little shy right now.
I reach down, taking her hand in mine, watching her watch me as I lift it to my mouth. I press my lips to her palm, and from her sharp intake of breath, you'd think I put my lips somewhere else entirely.