The Messenger Read Online Jessica Gadziala (Professionals #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Professionals Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
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"This is gonna hurt, honey, before it gets better."

The words were laced with apology, enough that she almost forgave him as he doubled down on the pressure, sinking fingers into the sore spot, working them in a circle that made pricks of pain shoot off in half a dozen directions, making her hands clasp each other until the skin went white.

But then, slowly, as promised, the pain eased, the pressure became less of a punishment... and became something more.

Something good.

Something that made her breathing deepen, but somehow become more erratic, as his second hand started moving too, sinking in, finding all the sore bits and working them out with deftness, without her having to say a thing about them in the first place.

Soon, the relief deepened, heated, became something else entirely, building in such a way - slowly, gently - that she couldn't see the signs pointing to what they were until a stab of something that was decidedly not pain shot between her thighs, making her breath catch, her heart stutter into overdrive, her breasts get heavy, nipples hardening, lips parting on a silent moan.

A tremble moved through her, and she wasn't sure if it was just internally, or if Kai could feel it as well.

If he did, he made no show of responding to it as his fingers kept working their magic, making a forbidden thought course through her brain.

What else could he do with those fingers?

The shock of that made her stiffen, trying to steady herself with a deep breath. "That's so much better, thanks," she told him, hoping her breath didn't come out as airy as it felt, and stifling a surge of primal disappointment when his hands moved to her shoulders, gave a small squeeze, then dropped away completely.

"Glad I could help," he told her, meaning it, because he always meant what he said. He was one of those people, the ones who were impeccable with their words. And even pure enough to be so with the motivation behind them.

Unless he was on a job, she supposed.

"Are you heading out?"

"Not until you do," he declared, moving off toward the hall as she just sat there, chaos pulsing between her thighs under her desk. "I'm gonna walk you out," he added, leaving before she could object.

Alone, she sucked in a deep breath, looking for composure, forcing her legs to hold her weight as she stood, hands gripping the edge of her desk as she realized there was no stopping the sensation inside, that she couldn't think straight.

Cold water.

She just needed a little cold water.

On that thought, she let herself into the bathroom, locking the door, moistening a paper towel with icy water, placing it at the back of her neck, body shuddering at the contact, but finding no relief from the pressure in her lower stomach, the insistent aching in her core.

Unable to think of anything else, convinced she wouldn't be able to without some relief, her hand found the hem of her skirt, sliding the tight material up until her hand could slip between her thighs.

Her fingers met the wet material of her panties - proof of her aching desire - pressing down into her clit.

By the third circle of the swollen bud, she felt the orgasm rip through her body, making her teeth nip into her lip to keep from crying out, her hitched breath loud enough as it was against the hollow tiled room. Her hand slammed down on the cold, unbending porcelain of the sink as the waves crashed and crashed, threatening to pull her under completely, to refuse to let her surface before she finally managed to pull in a gasping breath, pulling herself back onto solid ground.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, trying to bring calm back to her frazzled nerve endings.

But when her eyes met her reflection, she saw it there still.

Desire.

Hell, need.

Raw.

Undiluted.

In its purest form.

For Kai.

No.

She shook her head at herself as if to shake the thought free.

No.

It wasn't Kai.

Not really.

It was the touch, the good feelings.

It had been so long since she'd been touched.

Her body had simply reacted, had done what it was designed to do when flooded with feel-good sensations.

It was a response.

Like a knee jerk.

Like a sneeze.

Just a body working as it should when faced with the right stimuli.

That was it.

At least that was what she stood there and convinced herself of for the next fifteen minutes.

And that was what she told herself every time the memory of that night flashed across her mind in rare, quiet moments. In bed. In the shower.

It wasn't Kai.

It couldn't be Kai.

SIX

Jules

I paced the snack area of the lobby for ten minutes, knowing I looked like a lunatic doing so in my bare feet, but allowing myself not to care. Just this once.

There were other things on my mind for a change than how other people might perceive me.


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