Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Who taught you that?”
“Sheila did.”
“Clever woman,” he murmurs, giving me a strange, intense look. “I wonder where she heard it?”
“Who knows?” I finish the last bite with a heavenly sigh. “That was amazing. Thank you, Declan.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I almost wish it weren’t over. I mean, I’m totally stuffed, but I’ve always been like this. More and more, you know what I mean? There’s no such thing as enough.” I laugh lightly, drinking down the last of the wine as well. “Sheila always says I’ve got big appetites.”
“What if I told you tonight didn’t have to be over?” His stare is piercing and intense. He holds my gaze, and a strange shiver runs down my arms, giving me goosebumps.
“What—what do you mean?”
“Come back to my apartment with me and find out.”
Chapter 3
Casey
My breath hitches. He can’t be serious right now. Declan’s been nothing but insanely professional, almost to the point of obsession. He’s never crossed the line with me, not a single time. Even this meal, while extremely out of character, still didn’t stray toward inappropriate. We talked about our lives, and this is the most intimate and open he’s ever been, but if I had left the table ten seconds ago, I would’ve walked away assuming this was just two work colleagues getting to know each other better.
Now I’m sure something different is happening.
His eyes drift along my body. His lips press to the rim of his glass. God, he’s got such a nice mouth. I glance down at his arms and feel a thrill burst into my core. Natalie always talks about how hot Declan is, and I try not to notice. He’s Boss Bastard, right? It doesn’t matter if he’s beautiful.
But suddenly, it’s all I can see.
“You want me to go home with you?”
He nods once and doesn’t elaborate. The moment is filled with tension, and I could almost scream. What the hell is happening? Is he seriously asking me back to his apartment for something more than just dinner?
But no, that’s crazy.
I know Declan Whelan. I’m just a little tipsy and I’m totally misinterpreting everything. I’ve been to his place before anyway, more than once actually, mostly to run errands for him like food shopping and getting clothes laundered. I bet he just wants me to pick up some dry cleaning so I can drop it off in the morning or something like that.
This is innocuous. I just have a filthy, messed-up mind. I’m so pent up, and I keep thinking about that vibrator in his hand and the way he easily turned it on, and god, what would it be like if he slipped it inside of me? The muscles in his shoulders flexing, his mouth open, and that amazing, melodious voice of his whispering filthy fantasies in my ear as sweat trickles down my body?
Stop fantasizing about your asshole boss, Casey!
“Okay, yeah, sure, I’ll come back to your place.”
“Good.” He gestures for the waitress, pays for the meal, and leads me back outside with a long stride. I have to hurry to keep up, and I keep thinking I’m going to topple over any second. These heels are killing me.
His car’s already waiting out front. The driver nods as we climb into the back. The privacy screen is already rolled up. Declan’s so big that our knees are inches apart, and I’m intensely aware of his enormous, muscular body.
But the second we start moving, he stares out the window. He always does this whenever we travel places. I’ve been in cars just like this with him a dozen times over the past couple of years, and I’ve never felt this much tension before.
Now it’s everywhere. All my muscles are tight. I try to roll my shoulders, but that doesn’t help. I catch him glancing at me, and I swear he licks his lips slightly when my chest is shoved out.
I feel my skin flush red, but he’s already staring out the window again.
This is so stupid. Why am I having these thoughts? This dinner was just a boss doing something nice for an employee who mortified herself. I bet he feels sorry for me and wanted to give me a little treat to keep me from quitting. There’s nothing inappropriate or personal going on here. This is all business.
Declan’s never been anything else but professional.
I’m being an idiot.
Nothing’s about to happen.
We’re going back to his place so he can shove a bundle of worn suits and sweaters in my arms.
And I bet he’ll remind me that I’m only to call him Mr. Whelan from now on and that this whole first-name-basis thing was just for the night.
There’s just no way he’s bringing me back to his apartment for sex.
I spend the ten-minute car ride to his upscale residential building thinking about sleeping with him.
Which is really bad since it’s not happening. But the more I imagine his hands on my body, his mouth on mine, his soft masculine groans in my ears, the more I want it.