Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
The drive up here was misery. When I got back from class, she was fresh out of the shower in a white T-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, her face clean, her hair blown smooth, and she left her window down for the drive, letting the wind whip her hair around her face.
I didn’t say much, and she picked up on my mood and left me to brood. But then she popped in her earbuds and used the ride to listen to her book.
I wanted to ask what Arturo was up to. To know what was happening when she shifted in her seat and glanced over at me like she wanted to make sure I couldn’t hear. I’ve never had much of an opinion one way or another about romance novels, but they are suddenly my favorite genre. Not to read myself. But to know she’s reading.
I have a plan, and I need to stick with it. Savvy doesn’t see me for who I am—an asshole looking out for his own best interests. She sees me as some sort of hero. She wouldn’t have dropped to her knees in front of me like she did if she thought otherwise. She knew I wouldn’t let her do it. Maybe I should have. Just so she hated me and kept her distance.
I keep catching myself doing shit to match that skewed perception she has of me. Giving her the bedroom. Cooking her dinner. Telling Rose to buy her lingerie to go with the dress when I knew damn well she didn’t need it. I need to fucking stop. I’m making everything complicated, and there’s no reason this shouldn’t be simple.
Savvy straightens and caps the lipstick, then tucks it into her purse. When she turns to me, those big eyes emphasized with dark liner, my gut clenches.
“What?” she asks. “You look worried. What is it?” She looks down at herself and skims her hands over her dress.
“I’m not worried.” He’ll take one look at her, at these clothes, and she’ll be a candidate. Then, once he finds out she’s a Downing, he’ll zero in. That’s all it will take.
“Are you having second thoughts?” she asks.
Yes. “No. Come on.” I open the door and hold it for her as she strides down the hall toward the elevator.
When I asked Rose to find a dress for Savvy, she asked what feature I wanted to emphasize.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Every body is different, and dresses should accentuate our assets. Is she busty? Petite? Graceful?”
“She has an ass like J.Lo and tries to hide it.”
Rose cackled. “I know just the dress,” she said, and fuck. She’s hit a home run. It emphasizes that ass and makes my hands itch to touch. To take. To claim like I’m the fucking hero Arturo and not the asshole Oliver Rhett.
I can’t have Savvy, but there’s nothing stopping me from taking in the view as she strides to the elevator, her hips swishing with every step.
She presses the button, showing off her freshly manicured nails. They’re a bold red that matches her lipstick. And those red lips are putting some bad ideas in my head.
The doors slide open with a ding and she steps inside, clutching her purse in front of her like a shield. When the doors close and the elevator starts to descend, she flashes me a worried look.
“I’m surprised you’re going with me. Won’t he suspect something if he sees me walk in with you?”
I look at my watch. “He won’t see me. I’ll point him out from the hotel’s lobby bar and wait for you here while you go across the street and drink your martini.”
“But what if he—”
“Like I said, he’s predictable.”
She bites her bottom lip, her teeth sinking into the red and making me think of another time, another place I’d like to see her do that. Like under me. Like in my bed. Like when I’m inside her.
“Don’t do that,” I say gruffly, staring at her mouth.
“Oh.” She brings two fingertips to her lips and stops before touching them. “Did I ruin it?”
“No.”
Her shoulders sag. “Good.”
“But you need him to be interested in who you are—not determined to get those pretty lips on his cock before he can be intrigued by more than your body.”
She flushes, but her moment of embarrassment is followed quickly by angry-eyed indignation. “What the fuck are you getting me into, Oliver? I told you I’m not getting on my knees for—”
I close the space between us and look down at her. At those lips. “Not for anyone but me,” I say against my better judgment. “Not as long as I have anything to say about it.”
She draws in a shaky breath, her eyes going back and forth between mine. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”
I step back, and the elevator doors slide open. “It doesn’t matter what I want. Only what I plan to take.”