Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
She smiles. “Good morning, Professor Wolf.” He huffs a laugh as if genuinely amused.
“I’m sure Brooklyn has caught you all up?” he asks before taking a gulp of coffee. I notice his eyes never leave her, though.
“Yeah.” She nervously chuckles. “She’s just full of surprises these days. I guess a congratulation is in order.”
“Don’t worry about it.” In two strides, Ronan grips my waist and pulls me toward him as if I belong to him. Seconds later, he’s kissing me like we’re not in front of my best friend. Obviously, he has something to prove.
My knees buckle, and my chest tightens, enjoying the feel of being wrapped in his arms. It’s not until he pulls back and looks deep into my eyes that I find it hard to breathe. And even harder to remember what lies I’ve just told Aspen and what lies I want to tell myself.
CHAPTER 10
Ronan
What the fuck?
I’m frozen in place as the penthouse door closes behind me with a loud thud. My gaze moves slowly across the living room and into the kitchen. Every little fucking thing has her hand on it.
Heat creeps up the back of my neck. How in the hell is it even possible to change everything in less than eight hours?
A new chandelier dangles straight ahead of me, and I stay utterly fucking still as my jaw clenches. I hired not “one of the top” but the top designer to decorate my place over six years ago when I first got my position, and in a single day, Brook has transformed every last inch of it.
All my furniture has been replaced, and as I continue to look around, I see that everything has been replaced. She’s altered it all as if it were truly hers to change. I don’t recognize a foot in front of me while I inspect a space that looks more like a home now. I go through each room, simply taking it in and attempting to remain calm. There’s even fresh paint on the once gray walls. They’re all off-white now, with flower wallpaper in the bathrooms.
All I see are dollar signs in the dainty pillows that read of luxury and the paintings that line the back wall as if she’s having a go at seeing which of the ones selected she prefers. Adrenaline courses through my veins. There are mirrors with gold trim and a gilded coffee table I wouldn’t live with if my fucking life depended on it.
“It’s called mineral tones,” she says from my left.
Every thought of the decor vanishes when I spot Brooklyn donning what can only be described as a schoolgirl slut costume. Her nylons are pulled into place with clips and a solid, thin line that runs down her legs.
She adds, “It’s uptown chic with a feminine flair.”
“Is that right?” I question, barely hearing a word as I take in the button that’s holding on for dear life between her breasts.
My cock is instantly hard, and no amount of blood remains for logical thought.
Fuck the wall color. It’s not like I give a shit anyway.
Swallowing thickly, I rake my eyes down her gorgeous curves, then back up to her gaze. I can’t help but smile as the mischievousness shines in her doe eyes. It dawns on me. This is her revenge. A chess piece moved. I suppress a smirk. If one day of shopping can get me off the hook for the dumb shit I say without thinking, she can have every fucking penny.
“What’s this?” I murmur as I toss my suitcase on the new-to-me chaise lounge and loosen my tie.
“I hope you like it, Professor Wolf,” she says seductively, and I swear to God, she must’ve practiced that line. “I bought it for you.”
My cock is so fucking hard that I leak precum.
I have to close my eyes and stifle a groan.
What this woman does to me is sinful.
When I open them, I attempt to right myself. Her blond hair shines with the new dimmed light from the chandelier, and I’ll be damned, but she’s never looked better.
Well… maybe when she was tied up and under me. I’ll never get over that.
“What are you doing, Brook?”
“I’ve always had a professor kink,” she says, taking a hesitant step forward as her fingers play with the hem of her dangerously short plaid skirt. “And I’ve been a bad girl.” Her pouty lips beg me to kiss her, but I stand exactly where I am.
“What did you do?” I ask her, ignoring the throbbing ache in my cock.
She smirks at me so fucking devilishly. She’s sin in black heels with fuck-me eyes, and I can barely contain myself.
“You don’t want to know how much I spent,” she murmurs, and that little vixen look comes over her. “You should make sure you’re getting your money’s worth.”