Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Nope, not sucking his cock.
Not gonna happen, no matter how pretty it is.
“Sailor, it was a pleasure.” Romarc kisses my hand, then looks to Keir. “Bring her more often. You talk less business. It’s refreshing.” He winks at me before they leave.
Roberto steps in and whispers something to Keir, so I start walking outside to the car, leaving them to it. Keir’s car is still parked directly in front of the restaurant, and it’s the only one there.
“Sailor.” I turn to find Romarc standing there, a cigar in his hand and his lady friend Ginger gone. He walks over to me, and I feel his eyes roam my legs before they settle on my breasts, which are clearly hidden underneath my shirt. “Can you escape tonight? I would love to show you around.”
His words make my skin crawl.
That’s a hard no.
But I smile at him. “I’m married and not interested. But thank you for the offer.”
“I’m married too. That never hurt anybody.” Little does he know how much it does hurt most women and probably some men too. When I used to find evidence of other women on Dillan’s clothes, it broke a small part of me each and every time. His wife must feel the same.
“It’s time you left.” Keir stands directly behind me, his front touching my back, and I’m frozen in place as I didn’t hear him step in behind me.
“Don’t seem so married now.” Romarc winks, then walks away.
“Flirting with the enemy, I see.” I go to step away from Keir, but he’s too fast. His hand circles my hip and keeps me in place, so I’m plastered to him.
And I feel his cock.
His large hard cock.
Which is pressing into my ass.
“I meant what I said. I’m married. What happened in the car can’t happen again.”
“If you say so.” Keir shifts my hair from my shoulder, and I feel his breath before his lips land on my neck, leaving soft kisses in their wake.
Pulling away from him, I move so he can’t catch me again and spin around to face him. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
He laughs, and I step farther away. This time he listens, though, and does just that, keeps his hands to himself and gets in the car. I follow, and he doesn’t speak or touch me the entire ride home.
I have curled myself up on his couch again. Keir didn’t come inside with me, and I don’t think he even came home during the night, because this time when I wake I’m still in the same spot on his couch where I fell asleep.
“Sleeping beauty.” I roll over to see Roberto leaning against the wall with a sports magazine in his hand. He closes it, pushes off the wall, and looks at me. “Rise and shine.” He winks and walks off, yelling over his shoulder that breakfast is ready. I look down at my clothes and decide, fuck it! I’m wearing what I have on. All Keir can do is tell me to go back and change and what does that matter. When I walk into the dining room, I find it’s just Keir at the table, food in front of him as he sits back against his chair waiting for me to enter.
“Hello.” It’s all I can think of to say. I can’t ask him where he was last night because, frankly, it’s none of my business. And if I am being perfectly honest, my care factor right now is at zero. He says nothing in return, so I pull out a seat and sit across from him.
He licks his lips, and I remember what it was like to have him between my legs. How good it felt. Stop it! Stop thinking like that.
“A lawyer called.” My phone, which is in front of him, is slid across the table to me. I didn’t even realize he had it.
“Really?” Picking it up, I check my emails.
“You’re divorcing him?”
“Yep.”
He nods, then picks up his cup of coffee, bringing it to his lips to drink. “Eat.”
Keir’s a man of few words, and internally I smirk at his brashness, but I do as he says. Not because he told me to, but because I’m starving. Dark eyes watch me, and I randomly wonder how long it takes him to dress in his designer suit every morning and to walk out looking this good every day. The only time I’ve seen him without a suit was when he was naked.
Not that I am complaining.
“Have you ever been married?” I ask. No one else is here, and it’s too quiet to listen to myself chew.
“No.”
“No one special ever held your interest?” I ask, giving a timid smile.
“No.”
“Okay then,” I mumble under my breath.
“Marriage is for those who want to trap and contain. Exactly as your husband did to you. He confined you, kept you ensnared in a life you didn’t want.”