Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Waylynn?”
His voice sent tingles through my entire body. Taking a deep breath, I turned to face Jonathon.
“Hey,” I said, leaning against the windowsill.
He stepped inside my office. “I need to talk to you.”
I was never one to be nervous or scared around men, but being in the same room with Jonathon Turner scared the living daylights out of me. It also pissed me off knowing how much power this man held over me.
“About?”
He shut the door and stood with his cowboy hat in hand. I tried not to let my eyes scan his perfect body. He was toned beyond belief. Those three mile runs he ran every day kept the man in shape. Not to mention the nightly trips to the gym I knew he took because we always crossed paths, him coming in just as I left my yoga class.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said.
My breath stalled in my throat. “I’ve already told you, Jonathon. This can’t work.”
He took a few steps closer, and I stayed as still as I could. My fingers itched to touch him.
“Then why did you seem pissed off that I brought a date to Steed and Mitchell’s birthday party a few weeks back?”
“I wasn’t upset,” I lied.
Jonathon took two long strides forward, standing in my space. His large, fit body inches from mine. I had to force myself to breathe.
“Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything?”
Lifting my chin, I kept my face neutral. “Feelings aren’t the issue here, the calendar is. I’m too old for you.”
He laughed. “Fuck that, Waylynn. You’re scared and you’re using age as an excuse. Look at me and tell me you didn’t feel anything when we were together.”
My chest rose and fell with each labored breath. Goosebumps broke out across my body as I thought about that afternoon months ago. My eyes closed as I remembered Jonathon moving deliciously fast and hard as he fucked me on the desk and then against the wall in my dance studio. It was raw. Passionate. Spontaneous, and hot as hell. And, yes…I had felt something. I felt something every time this man was close, a feeling I’d never experienced before, but I couldn’t admit that to him.
I smiled. “Two amazing orgasms…that’s what I felt, Jonathon.”
He leaned in closer, the smell of his cologne tangling with my libido. Shit. I needed him to step back before I lost control and begged him to take me right then and there.
He twirled a piece of my blonde hair between his fingers. “I know that wasn’t all you felt. I saw it in your eyes then. I see it now.”
I turned my head. “I’m six years older than you, Jonathon. I want things you can’t possibly give me.”
He huffed. “How do you know I don’t want the same things?”
With a harsh laugh, I stared him down. “I want to get married, and I want kids. At least three. Can you honestly look me in the eyes and say you want that at this point in your life?”
“Yes!” he said, cupping my face in his strong hands. “Waylynn, I’m not twenty fucking years old, I’m almost twenty-seven, and I want those things, too. I’m not saying let’s run off and get married tomorrow, but why won’t you give us a chance? I don’t care that you’re older than me.”
My heart was racing. “You want kids? What, like when you’re thirty-five, or something?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head before opening them and pinning me with his intense stare. “You can’t push me away with that. I can honestly tell you if it were up to me, I’d already be settled with a wife and kids. But no one has made me want to even think it’s a possibility…until you.”
My body trembled. “It…it could never work.”
“Why? And stop saying because you’re older than me.”
Memories of Jack flooded my mind all at once. Everything from him telling me I’d never make it in New York to him sitting with his lover at the restaurant. Was I ready to open my heart again? “It just wouldn’t.”
Jonathon pressed his body into mine, sending a rush of desire through my veins. His lips were inches from mine. The wall I had built was beginning to crumble piece by piece. I needed to be stronger.
When his lips brushed across mine, I gasped.
His hand moved up my dress, slowly sliding it up as he pushed his hard-on into me. I gripped his strong arms to keep my legs from giving out.
Damn it. What does this man do to me?
“Please, don’t push me away. I want you in more ways than just fucking you against a wall. Give me—hell, give us—a chance to show you that we can make this work.”
Electricity zapped through my body. I was about to break.