Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
And then the question follows….
Why does he care how I view him anyway? Because we’ll be working together?
I assumed you wouldn’t be allowed to share that.
I hope the message is vague enough, not letting slip that I really want to know why he’s sharing it with me specifically.
I’m not. So don’t tell anyone, Danielle. X
A note of giddiness touches me. The thought of us having a secret, however small, has my mind disappearing into silly places again.
I won’t, I text back. I promise. X
CHAPTER FIVE
Damien
Good girl, I want to write. But that’s not all you have to keep secret. When you come to my apartment later today, and I strip you naked, I will indulgently caress every inch of your flesh and drive my searing rock-hard cock deep inside your young pussy…you’ll have to keep it secret THEN, too. X
But of course, that’s not what I send.
I’m in the restaurant, overseeing the installation of the new industrial-grade refrigerator. The workmen get on with their job, leaving me to lean against the wall, looking down at my phone.
Pretending I’m doing something important.
No, not pretending. Talking to Danielle is important.
Thank you, I write instead. My agent would be pretty pissed if he found out I’ve been spreading rumors I’m not a dickhead.
LOL!
Three dots appear, telling me that’s not all she’s sending back, but the three letters make me want to hear her laugh out loud in real life. I want to hear her voice and know that I’m the one who provoked such a beautiful sound.
Which makes no sense, like all of this, since I don’t even know what her laughter sounds like.
I already knew you were a nice person. It shows plenty on TV, and Dad’s told me how much you do for charity.
I smirk, pacing up and down the kitchen.
Maybe that’s all a front. Did you ever think of that? I could be the biggest prick in the world, and nobody would ever know it.
I don’t believe that! she texts back. How comfortable would you be doing a live cooking show from your restaurant before it opens? I think that could be a good idea.
I nod. I’ll do pretty much anything you ask me to.
Only after I’ve clicked send do I realize how easily misread that could be. Or read correctly, seeing as I really do want more than marketing ideas.
Three dots appear, telling me she’s writing, but then they vanish, telling me she’s got some doubt about whatever she’s writing. I try to calm myself down, tell myself it doesn’t mean she’s thinking the same sorts of things I am.
You might regret you said that. LOL
Oh really?
Yeah! What if I say I want you to do a freaking naked run through the city?
The word naked slams into me.
I walk to the far side of the kitchen, out the door, and into the corridor, worrying those men might be able to see how excited the thought gets me. Not the run, but Danielle thinking the word naked, her and me together.
Our bodies would be covered in sweat and our hearts pounding from what we just did or are about to do….
I close my eyes, calming myself.
At all times, I need to imagine how Max would react if he read these messages. If I wrote back what I really wanted to – if I’m naked around you, Danielle, I won’t be running anywhere – she could easily show the text to Max.
Or perhaps she’d write something similar back.
And then what?
We’re thrust into the position of sneaking around behind Max’s back.
Damien?
The text comes through a moment later. I know one of the dangers of texting is reading too much into them, and seeing things that aren’t really there, but it’s difficult to convince myself of that as I envision her.
In my mind, she’s at her desk, biting her lip, maybe with her arms folded, so her gorgeous breasts are pushed up. She wants to know if I think she’s gone too far, worried about my response, when the truth is there’s no such thing as too far with us.
Or too fast.
Would that help publicize the restaurant?
It’s the safest thing I can send, going along with the joke. That’s what it probably really is, just a harmless joke, nothing for me to get worked up about.
Damien Drake, Celebrity Chef Runs Naked Through City Streets…are you telling me that headline wouldn’t get the word out?
I chuckle, wishing she was here – wishing I could reach over to her, brush my hand along her cheek, tuck her hair behind her ear, smooth my hands down around her hips, and pull her right up against me.
Close enough to feel the heat and the need and the bone-deep desire.
The problem is, I don’t want anybody seeing me naked.
I walk to the end of the hallway, getting further from the sounds of the workmen.