Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I know it might ruin me, and his tendency to dominate might kick up a level. Or he might get bored of me once he has another taste, and I can just get a wild fucking night out of it. The risk is high, but I’m not thinking straight when my body is screaming for his cock.
“Just a taste?” I whisper.
Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulls me tighter against him. His mouth lowers to within a breath of mine as he says, “No. The whole fucking thing. Top to bottom, with my mouth, then my fucking cock. And you will take it all.”
“Will I?” I question, not able to look away from his lips.
“Yes. And you’ll enjoy it.”
“The possibility is there,” I reply with a tilt of my head.
He smirks, and before I can say another word, he leans down and touches my lips gently with his, no tongue, just his lips. They’re soft and firm at the same time as he applies pressure. And just before I can push for more, his lips disappear, and he pulls back.
“First taste complete.”
Motherfucker. When did this dominant fucker turn into a little tease?
“Here in your office?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not here because the noises you’re about to make will make anyone think I’m killing you. Let’s go. I live close by.”
“To your house?” Surely not. I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking I’m being treated differently than them, even though it’s true at the moment. But also, I’ll do whatever is necessary to better my situation and Bentley’s when an opportunity presents itself. Me fucking the boss is an entirely different matter. I almost wish Dutton was a middle-aged, balding man because it would be much easier to say no to him.
“Do you have an issue with that?”
“I just…”
“It’s okay, Posie. I’ll make sure your body remains intact. Well, mostly.” He grins as he backs up, grabbing my hand and dragging me out the door.
CHAPTER 20
Dutton
Her hand is small and soft in mine, except for the few calluses on her palm from gripping the pole. The only reason I’m holding her hand is because I’m afraid that at any moment, she might change her mind and run.
She’s like a scared cat, ready to scamper away at any second, and I’m not taking any chances this time. Before we reach the exit, Hawke cuts us off. His gaze moves to Posie before sliding back to me.
“You’re leaving already?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“You suck at guys’ nights,” he accuses, shaking his head before he turns to Posie. “Did he at least tip you?”
She shrugs. “Could have been better.”
“Well, at least he didn’t pull a knife on you. He likes to carve things into people’s bodies.” He waggles his fingers in what I think is supposed to be a spooky gesture.
I glare at him. This fucker never knows how to read a room, and he always says the first thing that comes to his mind.
“Sorry, what?” Posie scrutinizes him.
“He’s trying to scare you,” I interject as she raises a brow. She doesn’t have to ask if it’s true. Posie is a smart woman, and she’s certainly seen the less attractive side of me, what with her constantly pushing my buttons.
“Ignore my brother,” Ford says, his attention glued to his phone screen as he comes up next to Hawke.
I don’t like how often they’ve been visiting the club lately. They’re obviously bored since Eli is married and always sending them away. I also don’t appreciate my father’s sudden appearance here either. And I’m certain they’re all far too curious about the blonde standing beside me.
“I’m sure I’ll see you again, Posie,” Hawke says.
Her brow furrows, and I know she’s remembering when my father said the same thing in the office. And I understand why they both said it. They think there is more going on between the two of us than I’m telling them. And that couldn’t be further from the truth. I need to get her out of my system. And besides, they know she has a possible connection to the Boston Delinquents, although I’m sure they’re not falling for that excuse any more than I am.
As Paula approaches us, she looks at my hand clutching Posie’s but speaks directly to her. “Thanks for filling in as best as you could.”
“That reminds me. Posie is banned from the stage,” I say. Paula’s eyes widen but she nods in agreement.
“You can’t do that! I’ll dance whenever I want to,” Posie argues, trying to pull her hand out of mine.
“Not in this club.”
“So you want me to quit, then?”
“No.”
“Then don’t try to tell me what to do.”
“I’m your boss; it’s my job,” I remind her.
She finally gets her hand free, only to defiantly cross her arms over her chest. She won’t agree with me openly, but I know she’s come to an internal agreement with my last statement.