Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
"Sex changes," she mumbled almost to herself.
"It doesn't have to change anything. We are both professional. We can keep it separate if we want. And I want to."
He watched her for a few seconds, expecting, hoping for some kind of response from her. His suit was starting to feel itchy, uncomfortable. This was still so strange for him. Realizing she wasn't about to say anything, he scooted his chair closer to hers- his knees pressing into the sides of her thighs.
Her whole body tensed. A long moment passed before he brushed her soft hair away from her face, putting his hand under her chin and waiting for her to raise her eyes to his. When she did, he saw the wavering; her desire battling with her innate prudence. "Say yes," he said, his voice more pleading than he had ever heard it.
"Yes," she said a second later.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Yes? Yes? What the hell was she thinking? Agreeing to an affair was certainly not going to help the situation. She hadn't even gotten a chance to figure out what she was going to do about the whole situation for goodness sakes.
And then there he was.
Hannah had snapped at Sam when he called her, informing him she wasn't a dog he could summon. But she went down anyway, stubbing her toe against a dresser and knocking a book to the floor on her way out of her room.
And then there he was.
For a split second she honestly didn't even register what she was seeing. But the satisfied, jocular smile that spread across Sam's face snapped her into the moment. Elliott Michaels was in Sam's kitchen. It wasn't a thought she could have ever imagined thinking. And yet... there he was. In a three-piece suit, looking tired and relieved.
Had he worried about her? It seemed unlikely. Then her name had drawled off his lips- too familiar, speaking of intimacy, reminding her (and informing Sam) that he was quite well acquainted with her.
Once Sam excused himself, she could feel her stomach all odd and jittery match the erratic pounding of her pulse in her ears. The absolute last thing she needed was to be left alone with him. But there wasn't a choice. She felt her walls snapping into place: pride and coldness wrapping around her like an old familiar prison- keeping everyone out and keeping herself and her true feelings locked safely away. She hadn't expected this side from Elliott. She hadn't even been aware he had a side that wasn't aloof and arrogant and rude.
But he had worried about her. He jumped through hoops to try to find out what was going on. He talked to her parents, her friends. He chased her to her ex-boyfriend's house. For what? To make sure she was alright? To pull her back to work? What?
To be his mistress, she realized, the idea sharp and metallic. He wanted to bring her back so he could keep screwing her. Use her because she was close and easy. Cheat on his wife with her. Though when he told her to admit she wanted him, when he asked her to agree to an affair with him- there had been a pleading vulnerability that she felt herself pulled to. She had already known that she wanted him. She knew herself well enough to know she was always one smoldering look away from practically jumping his bones. But she had figured it was a purely hormonal thing. Her body was attracted to his body. Pheromones. Pure animal attraction.
She never paused to think that maybe her subconscious recognized something in him. The person underneath the cool, efficient businessman. That maybe there was a part of him that saw her as something more than soft lips and spread thighs.
She had agreed before she had a chance to think it through. And then she had agreed to go back to the inn with him. She wasn't even fully aware of that until he told her to go grab her bags. As she climbed the stairs, worriedly clenching her left hand over and over- an old tick she always fell back on when she was overwhelmed. When she rounded the corner to her room, she found Sam sitting on the edge of her bed, his arms spread wide across the disheveled comforter.
"Well well well," he said, grinning.
"Why would you even let him in?" she exploded, grabbing a pair of stray socks off the floor and stuffing them into her bag.
"Because you needed to face him, Han," Sam said, smile gone, a look of sincere kindness in his eyes. "The second I opened that door, I could guess what was going on."
"And what was going on, Mr. All Knowing And Powerful?" she mocked, looking for one of her missing shoes.
"Han," he said, looking down at his feet. "I loved you since we were still kids, okay? I get you. It doesn't matter that all this time has passed. You're that same girl I grew up with. You're still that girl with the attentive parents who needed to know everything when all you wanted was some privacy. You've always had those defenses, the coolness and that smartass 'I got this' attitude," he kicked the shoe out from underneath the bed toward her. "When I saw that guy on the step... don't think I didn't notice that he was like your absolute ideal either..."