Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
And now here I was about to presumably have casual sex with a man I’d been ready to punch in the face just a few hours ago. Correction: a man I’d still like to punch in the face. Unfortunately, it was just an unfairly pretty face attached to a ridiculously sexy body.
But this kind of situation was exactly why casual sex was created, right? A group of cavewomen got together, realized that all men were not boyfriend material, and decreed that from that moment forward, “hit it and forget it” could be invoked in special circumstances.
Honestly, it might even be some sort of cardinal sin to let a body like his go unused, right? I was… righting some kind of universal wrong by agreeing to sleep with him.
Besides, it was like we said. Nothing that was about to happen would impact our dynamic at work. Mr. Stone could still be a raging asshole to me to his heart’s content–assuming he had a heart.
When I saw my apartment building and a fancy sports car parked outside, I felt a fresh wave of butterflies scurry around inside me. I took a deep breath in and let it out. “Termite,” I said as we climbed the stairs towards my apartment. “I don’t want you to think less of me because of what you’re about to see. In fact, maybe you should just borrow my sleeping mask and take a nap after your dinner.”
Termite tapped on, completely oblivious that her nightly routine was about to go up in flames.
Mr. Stone waited outside my apartment door. He was leaning against the wall and looking down at his phone like a perfect picture of disinterest.
No butterflies for him, I guessed.
“Hey there, casual sex bud,” I said, firing off finger guns towards him for God only knew what reason.
Mr. Stone stared at me like I deserved to be stared at, then shook his head. “Please don’t call me that.”
“Sorry. I’m just feeling super weird about this. Not that I don’t want to do it–you.” I took another deep breath and blew it out. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t do this kind of thing. I haven’t, I mean. I don’t know the protocols. Do I take your jacket inside? Do I offer you coffee first? Should we shower and get cleaned up, or just jump right in? Like… am I allowed to brush my teeth?”
Mr. Stone smiled and came toward me. Termite growled, backing up. “We go in there and let our bodies do what they’ve been begging us to do. Simple as that.” His eyes grew heavy as he ran them from my mouth to my chest and then back to my eyes. “You can let me lead.”
I nodded quickly. “Okay. But I have to feed Termite first.”
He gestured to the door. I fumbled with my keys, suddenly forgetting which way was up and which was down when it came to keys. Once I finally got the lock to turn, I motioned for him to go in first. Grinning, he obliged and flicked on the light when he got inside.
“They did a good job,” he said. “Are you happy with the remodel?”
I tossed my keys on the counter and unhooked Termite from her leash. “The one you ordered for me while I was too delirious to say ‘no,’ you mean?”
“Maybe we should skip the small talk,” he said.
“Actually, I feel way less nervous when I’m pissed at you. Can you just… be yourself a little more? It’s helping calm me down.”
Mr. Stone looked amused. “Fine. You’ve been coming to work late for weeks now, and it has to stop. I also don’t want to see you around that asshole Chase anymore. And when we’re not at the office, call me Christian.”
I nodded as I dumped some extra food in Termite’s bowl, hoping the bribe would help her forgive me for what I was about to do in the bed we shared. “That’s good. Yeah. And so you know, Chase isn’t an asshole. He’s actually really nice and you’d probably like him if you got to know him. Also, for the record, I don’t plan on dating him, even though it’s not your business to know. But maybe knowing will stop you from turning into such a jealous asshole every time he breathes in my direction.”
Christian watched me with folded arms as he leaned, still looming by the doorway. “You make me jealous, Lola.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because when I think of someone else’s hands on you I want to punch through a fucking wall.”
I bit my lip. “And?”
“And being jealous over one of my employees also pisses me off. So I’m going to fuck you until you’re nothing but a puddle of exhausted satisfaction in my arms. And when I’m done, I’ll be able to tell myself that none of the assholes at the office can give you what I gave you. Then I’ll know no matter who you fuck after me, they will never be able to live up to what we shared.”