Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
I growl, “Fuck off.”
The guy holds up his hands and starts backing up, clearly intoxicated. When I feel he’s far enough away from the car, I look back at her.
“I have skills,” she asserts before climbing into the passenger seat.
“I’m sure you do.”
“I do,” she insists, then adds, “With my mouth.”
That makes me look over at her with a raised brow. She shrugs like it’s something she would usually say as I start the car. She buckles up before I pull out of the parking lot, and the short drive to her house is made mainly in silence, until I break it.
“Reconsider my offer,” I say.
“Hmm… no! I think I’ll accept the other offer.”
“I wasn’t talking about the job.” I glance her way to see her watching me.
“That’s a no, too. Why would I go back to your apartment?”
“Because it would be a good night.”
She scoffs. “You sound so sure of yourself.”
“I am,” I reply without hesitation.
“Sorry, no can do. I have my son to think about.”
“You don’t. He’s away with your ex-husband and his new fiancée.”
Her jaw clenches, then she says, “I’m busy.”
“You aren’t. Any other excuse?”
“I don’t want to be fucked by you.”
“You do, so stop lying to yourself.”
“Did someone drop you on your head when you were a baby?” she asks, turning her body more toward me. “You really have a problem with the word ‘no.’”
“Most people see ‘no’ as a final answer. I take it to mean I have to change tactics in order to get what I want.”
“Well, when a woman says ‘no,’ she means it.”
I don’t bother arguing with that, because while I may be fucked-up, I agree with what she’s said.
The urge to take her to my place is real, but instead, I drive her straight to her house. When we stop out front, she doesn’t bother thanking me or say another word before she opens the door and steps out. I watch her as she walks to her front door, unlocks it, pushes it open, and steps inside. Then she turns and offers me a cheeky wave before she shuts the door, cutting off my view of her.
Cressida has gotten under my skin in many ways, but not in the way I want her to be. There’s no point in denying the attraction between us. She could disagree about it all she wants, but we both know it’s there and alive.
When I first met her, I thought she was an annoying woman who wouldn’t stop harassing me. She was persistent, and a part of me respects that about her, but another part just wanted her to go away. So, I did the only logical thing I could do—I purchased her place of employment with the hope I could stop her witch hunt. But it seems her persistence is stronger than I thought.
I wasn’t lying when I told her I would buy her next place of employment. I will do it repeatedly until she has nowhere left to go and nowhere to publish her stories. She’s a fantastic journalist, which is part of the reason I offered her a job. I believe she can get things done that others can’t, and her boss attests to that. She would be an asset to have on my payroll, and I’d be able to have a say in what she publishes. I just have to talk her into agreeing to my offer.
I pull my earbud from out of my pocket and put it in my ear so I can check on her. She’s walking around her house, doors closing, and there is the rustling of clothes. Then I hear the telltale hum of a vibrator.
She may deny our attraction all she wants, but I know for a fact she wants me as much as I desire her. The moans and heavy breathing coming through the earbud are all the proof I need.
She wants me.
And I’m done waiting for her to say it aloud.
NINETEEN
CRESSIDA
Case Notes
Do not, I repeat, do not under any circumstances invite him in.
Someone is knocking on my door, and I ignore it with a groan. The same thing happened last time I got my vibrator out to play.
“Miss Knight,” I hear those now-familiar words call out in a loud voice, followed by more insistent knocking. Pounding my fists on the mattress, I make a frustrated sound before I rise from the bed. My jeans are crumpled on the floor, so I grab my sleep shorts and slide them on. Leaving my toy abandoned on the bed, I walk out of the bedroom to hear him calling out to me again. Pulling open the door, I find Soren standing there, looking way too good. My chest starts fluttering from the way his eyes are on me right now. His hair is still damp, a sexy mess with pieces falling haphazardly over one eye, and the streetlights illuminate the feral gleam in his eyes.