Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Once inside the bedroom, he walked her over to the queen-sized bed and made her sit down. He put her glass of wine on the dresser, then knelt in front of her and slipped off the heels she’d worn all day. Her breath caught in surprise, then coalesced into a sigh of contentment as he rubbed the ball of her foot and instep, then massaged her calves like an expert masseuse.
Her eyes rolled back with the pleasure of it. God, his hands were like magic, and she suddenly wanted them to travel much, much higher.
“Are you starting to forgive me for hiring all those contractors?” he asked, a knowing smirk on his face.
She laughed lightly, then moaned as his fingers dug gently into the taut muscles along her calves. “Maybe a little,” she conceded.
“Maybe, if I stayed right here on my knees and tried another tactic, I might fully convince you of how sorry I really am?”
He was teasing, being the flirtatious Derek she knew that came so naturally to him, and she found herself being just as playful, because why not? She’d had one glass of wine—on an empty stomach, no less—and it made her bolder than normal. “Depends on what that tactic might be.”
He arched a wicked brow. “I’m open to suggestions,” he murmured, as if leaving those ideas up to her.
His fingers stroked behind the back of her knee—that sensitive erogenous zone that made her sex clench and nipples tighten into aching peaks—and she swallowed hard and shivered. “Derek . . .” Her voice trailed off breathlessly.
Suddenly, he swore beneath his breath and his hands dropped away. Abruptly, he stood. “Stay here and give me a minute.”
He quickly turned around but unless her eyes were deceiving her—and she was positive they weren’t—there was a telltale bulge in his shorts. As in, whatever that moment had been between them, he’d been caught up in the sexual tension, too.
He needed a minute, and honestly, so did she, because what the hell was that? She’d been attracted to Derek for what seemed like forever, but he’d always treated her like a sister, undoubtedly out of respect for Ben being his best friend and, now, his business partner. Sure, there’d been a level of teasing between them, but never had things gotten that intense. Up until now, she would have bet every penny in her trust fund that he didn’t see her as a sexy, desirable woman.
But in that moment, she’d felt both of those things, and his unexpected reaction to their interaction confused the hell out of her.
Maybe it was just a fluke, because she knew she wasn’t the type of woman Derek normally dated. Yeah, that had to be it. A total fluke.
She watched him head into the adjoining en suite. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously.
“Drawing you a bath,” he said, plugging the drain and turning on the faucets to full blast.
From her seated position on the bed, she could see the tub and the main part of the bathroom, as well as Derek as he surveyed the area. He looked at the bottles lined up on a shelf near the tub, where she kept an assortment of bubble bath, body oils, and bath bombs. He unscrewed the top of one of the pretty, jewel-encrusted glass vials she collected and sniffed the contents. That scent, she knew, was gardenias, and he must have liked the fragrance because he added a small pour to the cascade of running water. He grabbed one of her large, fluffy towels and draped it over the heated rack, then turned it on so she’d have a nice warm towel to wrap herself in after her bath.
He was a man in charge, and it was super hot to watch him take control.
On the small side table at the head of the tub were a few other items. A book she’d been reading. A scented candle that Derek lit. And a vintage iPod she’d kept from her high school days that still held some of her favorite songs. He picked up the device, turned it on, and selected a mellow Colbie Caillat song.
He added her glass of wine to the side table, then dimmed the raindrop chandelier overhead so the bathroom was mostly lit by candlelight. When the tub was three-quarters full, he finally turned off the water, a fragrant steam billowing from the surface.
“Okay, come on in,” he finally invited, and when she stepped inside, he gave her a mock bow. “Derek Bettencourt, at your service, for the rest of the weekend.”
She laughed at his playful demeanor. “I’m impressed. Looks like you’ve done this a time or two,” she teased.
“Actually, never,” he admitted, surprising her. “But it’s not hard to figure out how to run water into a tub or see the things you enjoy while taking a bath.”