Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
All other thoughts vanish as I let Henry consume my body as he pleases.
I manage to prop myself up on my elbows, but with my pants bunched around his neck, I’m at his mercy. Henry takes advantage of that, pumping in and out of me. A rosy flush coats his skin.
“Fuck, I’m going to come now, Abbi,” he growls, speeding up his pace. A moment later his body tenses and he releases a long, guttural groan as he pulses and fills me.
The sight and sound of him letting go has my orgasm chasing. I can’t be bothered to hide my moans as my muscles seize up and ecstasy overwhelms me.
In seconds, my tiny closet office is quiet once again, save for our labored breathing.
Henry pulls out and collects a few tissues. “What was that you said about this day being anticlimactic?” he murmurs, cleaning me up.
I giggle. And then gasp. “Did we go live? We must have gone live by now!” Was that his intention? To distract me so I didn’t go insane from the anxiety of the waiting game?
He ducks and slips my ankles over his head, settling them down gently onto the floor before pulling me up onto wobbly, Jell-O legs. “After you.”
We redress, bumping elbows multiple times. I smooth my hair as best I can, but there’s no hiding what just happened in here and by the time we emerge, my face is burning.
Annie is joined by Zaheera, who stands next to a bunch of rose gold balloons and cupcakes. They’re wearing matching grins. “Guess what! We sold out!”
My mouth drops, my embarrassment instantly forgotten. “What do you mean?”
Annie laughs. “I mean exactly what it sounds like! You sold through everything. Everything!” She’s bursting with excitement. “And there’s a waitlist growing for the next batch already.”
I gape at Henry. “Did you have something to do with that?”
“When would I have done that?” he deadpans.
“They’re all individual orders,” Zaheera confirms.
But how is that possible? I look back at my office door. “How long were we in there for?”
Annie looks at her watch. “The sale started fourteen minutes ago, so …”
We listened to you two fuck for fifteen minutes, give or take, is what that long silence after says.
“This is … I can’t believe it!” A squeal of glee escapes me as I throw my arms around Henry’s neck. None of that bullshit from this weekend mattered. Not only did Roshana’s attempt to punish Henry fail, but the visibility might have given me a boost.
He pulls me against him in a warm embrace. “I knew you could do it.”
Annie pulls the champagne from the bucket. “What do you say, boss?”
CHAPTER 20
“Can you imagine decorating this thing?” I stare up at the massive tree in awe, its countless Swarovski crystal lights a dazzling display for the thousands that huddle in the cold. A puff of my hot breath mingles with the frigid air.
Violet tugs on her periwinkle knit cap—another that she made herself during the long, quiet nights. Her blue eyes twinkle. They’re even more vibrant in the cold. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the Rockefeller tree before.”
“My parents aren’t big on traveling. Or cities.” When I admitted this fact to Violet, she gasped in horror, and then she insisted on coming to Manhattan so we could see it together. It was as good an excuse as any to get her here again.
She shakes her head. “We come every year. Well, except last year, obviously. Mom would read up on the tree so we’d know its history.”
“Practically minutes away from me and I had no idea …” Henry’s jaw tenses. He stands on the other side of Violet, his stance solid, as if a barrier from the crowd. Looming not far behind us are Sullivan and Daniel, security guards for the Wolf who work as bodyguards off the hotel’s clock. They’re dressed casually, but anyone paying attention might question the two giant men moving in step, their heads on swivels.
So far, though, tucked in our winter coats and beanies, we’re just part of the crowd.
Violet steals a glance up at Henry, likely wondering where he places his blame. Audrey? His father?
Her?
He can be intimidating when he’s angry, especially if you don’t know him, and especially if you’re a teenage girl seeking his acceptance.
“What’s this year’s tree story?” I ask, hoping to keep the mood light. “Did you look it up?”
“Of course I did.” She grins. “It’s a Norway Spruce from Bainbridge, New York. It’s eighty-two years old, it stands eighty feet tall, and weighs twelve tons.”
“Wow.” I mouth, peering up at it again. “Can you imagine how much work it is to get it here and decorated?”
“There are videos!” Violet prattles on about the complex plan of security and cranes and trucks and five miles of light strands that wind around it. “Did you know that star at the top is worth one point five million dollars? And it’s just sitting up there, waiting to be stolen.”