Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I swallow hard, wracking my brain for something that might stop this relentless man from firing my best friend.
“She felt bad for me,” I muster, feeling foolish. “I was so hung up on you, wanting you to see me as more than one of the employees that sit in the cubicles of this office building that she tried to help me. This is on me, not her, please, Rome, please don’t punish her. I know you’re upset, but be upset with me. Genevieve needs this job.”
“She should have thought about that before she broke company policies.”
“Please.” I’m whispering.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even flinch.
Holds his ground, stone like a statue.
I can’t help bristling at his unrelenting attitude.
It’s breaking my heart.
“Is that how this is going to be, Rome? You can’t fire me so you’re going to fire Genevieve? That’s low, even for you.”
Oh God, did I just say that? I try to keep my eyes from widening, but honestly, I’ve shocked myself, too.
“Excuse me?” He pulls his hand away from mine and rounds his desk, coming up short a few inches from me.
My chin tips up. “You heard me.”
“Do you really think I grew this business by sweeping shit like this under the rug? No. I’ve had to be ruthless from the beginning, weeding out the toxic, making sure this company is a fine-tuned machine. Little word of business advice, Peyton—you’re going to have to toughen up, or the sharks are going to eat you alive, and you’ll be out of business within six months.”
How dare he.
“You’re too nice.”
Too nice?
“Screw you.” I poke him in the chest as I shoot back at him, my voice stern and unwavering. “You can be a ruthless CEO by having a little compassion and without being an ass, and that’s what you’re being right now. An asshole. You have a problem with me emailing you, and since you can’t punish me directly, you’re going after Gen. I get it. But it’s no wonder people call you a tyrant.”
“Do you honestly think I give a shit what everyone says?”
“You should,” I spit back. “Maybe if you had half the respect I’ve earned from your employees, they would work twice as hard, work smarter, and you wouldn’t have the issues you have right now.”
His nostrils flare.
His jaw ticks.
“What issues?”
“Well. Take marketing for example. The department is a mess. George isn’t creative—this place has sucked the artist flow right out of him.”
“Is that all?”
I huff. “No.” Pause. “The entire accounting department is so boring, I do a death march when I have to walk past.”
“They’re accountants.”
He has a really good point, there.
“A brighter shade of gray on that floor would certainly make it less dull.”
His eyes blaze with heat and anger as he takes a step forward, trapping me against the wall. His cologne is the first thing to invade my space—spicy and masculine—then it’s his chest, broad and rapidly falling up and down.
His hands find the wall behind me, straddling my body and closing in around me. The pale grey of his eyes turns ice cold as they stare me down, his breath heavy as he speaks to me.
Every last hair on my body stands to attention, awakening my nerves on an entirely different level. How long have I wanted to be this close to him, to have his face inches from mine, to have the opportunity to closely take in the ridges and sharp lines of his handsome face?
So long.
And yet, I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.
I wish instead of the anger that’s coming off him, it was passion for me. Lust.
An unstoppable yearning.
“You think it’s easy running this company? Do you think it’s been easy trying to do my job when I have you writing me every day telling me you want to bang me?”
Bang me.
When he says it, it sounds so dirty.
Rome’s eyes leave mine and travel down my body, fixating on the cleavage heaving beneath my dress, because I can barely catch my breath.
Finally, our eyes meet.
He speaks. “Do you think it’s easy for me to get any goddamn work done when I have you strutting around in a dress like this, enticing me with your smart mouth and sassy attitude?”
“Excuse me? Strutting?” I don’t strut.
I gulp—hard—trying to catch my breath as every nerve in my body begins to pulse, my body feeling more alive than ever with him this close.
He bows his head forward, his cheek brushing against mine, the stubble scraping along my sensitive flesh. What would it feel like to have that scruff scrape against my inner thighs? To have that sharp-witted tongue pleasuring me? To have those lips pressing wet kisses against my skin?
What would it feel like to have this man’s mouth on mine for just one kiss?
Just one . . .
. . . kiss.
My mind drifts; wanders.