Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Great. Now I’m hungry.
“It is,” Bradley says proudly.
There is a pause before Alex states, “You didn’t make this.”
“No. Elliot McDavid did.”
Wow, dude just tossed me under the bus. My heart speeds up, and of course, my kiddo kicks me right in the ribs. I rub the spot to soothe them as I listen intently.
“Where is she?”
“In her office,” Bradley says, and I’ll need to have a talk with that little shit. Just throwing my business out like it’s his to give. “She had work to do.”
Alex snorts. “I’m sure she did.”
I bite into my lip as I hold my breath.
“Her office hasn’t changed, has it?”
Oh shit.
“Nope.”
“Good,” he says in a way that I know means he has a full-out smirk on his lips.
My stomach clenches. I’ve got to get out of here. I can do everything I need to in the car since there is no way in hell I’m ready to face him yet. By the tone of his voice, I know he is going to head straight to my office. I can’t be there. Not yet. I need to figure out how I am going to tell him the truth. I need to make sure I’ve got my wits about me because I am fully aware of how charming Alejandro Cruz is.
I push off the wall and start down the hall, but before I can get even another step away, an arm snakes around my waist, and I’m yanked back into a hard chest.
I’m enveloped in a musky lemon and cedarwood smell. I know the scent is Tom Ford for Men. Just as I know whose arms are around me. Whose chest is against my back. Whose mouth is by my ear. My body betrays me as I lean into him, having missed his contact for so long. Craving it at night when I feel so alone, but then his hands slide down my sides.
Instantly, I go still as thick lips move along the shell of my ear, and my breath catches.
“Mmm…” My heart stops dead in my chest before he whispers, “Miss me, mami?”
CHAPTER 8
Alex
It’s funny how my mind plays tricks on me.
For the last six months, I thought I had her body memorized. I thought I knew how she felt, how she smelled, and how fucking fantastic it was to have her hair against my face, in my nose. How the shell of her ear is designed for me to run my tongue along, to suck on her lobe. I thought I had her on lock in my mind, but no amount of dreaming, remembering, or imagining is like the real thing.
Elliot Bea McDavid.
Right. She feels fucking right.
I ignore that her body is taut next to mine, instead relishing the curve of her ass in my groin, her back against my chest, and how sweet she smells. She doesn’t smell like strawberries, but more floral with hints of citrus. It’s delectable. Hell, she’s delectable. She’s panting, her body flush with mine as I glide my lips along her ear. “I know I’ve missed you.”
I trail my hands along her sides, hating how big her shirt is. I’ve never seen her in anything this oversized except for my shirts when she’d wander around my apartment looking for food. She has the perfect tits and hips, and her hiding them is downright wrong. I kiss her lobe, and she leans into me, a soft sigh leaving that naughty mouth of hers. I move my hands up to rest across her stomach, but I’m not met with a flat surface like before. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if she’s put on some weight—my mom would call her too skinny—but it doesn’t feel like she overindulged on donuts. Her stomach is extended, hard.
That’s odd.
Before I can really feel her flesh, she is out of my arms and whipping around to gawk at me. Her hazel eyes are wild, her face flushed, and her mouth parted in a way that urges me to close the distance between us and lick along her lips. To feel her everywhere, to follow my hands with my mouth, to consume her.
God, I want her.
I wasn’t lying when I said I missed her. I did. Greatly. She’s just as beautiful as I remember. Cherubic pink cheeks, a Cupid’s bow top lip with a fuller bottom, her eyes round and an incredible hazel color. They’re more blue than green but with bits of brown. Her brown hair has more blond streaked through it and cascades down her shoulders in styled curls. She has a scar along her chin that I know she got from falling on a rock when she was nine. Even if I hate the too-big shirt, I do enjoy the tight shorts that hug her thighs and show off her shapely legs. She’s wearing a pair of pink Converse that go great with her Pink Floyd tee.