Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
It took me a beat too long to respond, my voice rougher than I intended. “Ace. I only need a few minutes of your time.”
She smiled, sending another zing of electricity to my aching dick, and nodded toward a hall with offices lining both sides. “Follow me.”
I trailed her, my eyes glued to the subtle sway of her hips. Poppy was sweet, vibrant, and completely unaware of what she was doing to me. Fuck. It was impossible not to want her beneath me, around me, writhing in pleasure while I showed her exactly who she belonged to.
The hall she led me down was quiet, lined with offices behind frosted glass doors, muffled voices drifting from the rooms behind them. Poppy glanced over her shoulder at me, a nervous smile curving her mouth. It was clear she struggled to fill the silence as we walked, her voice soft and quick as she spoke.
“So, uh, Ace, right? That’s a cool name—Ace. I mean, it kind of sounds like a card shark or something out of a movie. Or a big scary biker—” She winced slightly and then laughed nervously. “Oh. Well, I guess you are, but I mean scary in a good way—wait, that sounds worse, doesn’t it? I mean badass. Never mind. Forget it, sorry, I tend to ramble when I’m nervous, which I definitely am right now, if that wasn’t painfully obvious.”
She stopped outside one of the offices, unlocked the door, and stepped aside to let me enter first. The room was small and a little wild. The desk was stacked with folders, covered with sticky notes, and held a coffee mug that proclaimed “I Run on Coffee and Sarcasm.”
I sat down in one of the chairs across from her desk and set the folder I'd brought on the polished wood. Poppy hurried around to the other side, quickly taking a sip from her mug before sitting. She looked at me again, her cheeks flushed and eyes flicking nervously to mine and then away. Clearly still a bit rattled by my presence.
“So what can I help you with, exactly?” she asked, trying for professional but failing adorably as she twisted a strand of hair around her finger.
I tapped the folder in front of me, leaning back comfortably and keeping my gaze fixed on her. “Just some routine due diligence. We’re moving funds into a new venture and want to stay ahead of compliance.” My voice was casual as I effortlessly weaved the half-truth that would justify my presence without raising suspicion. “A quick review to ensure we're aligned with regulatory standards. Figured it’s best to do this in person.”
“Oh, of course,” she murmured, nodding quickly and reaching for the folder. Her fingers were delicate as they flipped open the file. As she skimmed the pages, she picked up her mug again. Her eyes darted from the folder back to me, her gaze catching mine for a moment too long.
The blush returned, and her hand shook slightly as she moved to set down her coffee. Watching her blush like that, the pink spreading from her cheeks down to her neck, made my cock hard enough to fucking ache, desperate to see how far down her skin flushed when I stripped her bare.
Then the mug tilted, coffee sloshing out and splashing onto the files and the desk. Her eyes went wide with horror, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry.” She hopped up, reaching for tissues and trying desperately to mop up the mess. When she bent over the desk, her demure blouse gaped and gave me a perfect view of her lush tits. I pictured freeing them from the lacy bra I glimpsed, my mouth and hands marking every soft inch of her skin while I fucked her so thoroughly she forgot her own name.
“This is so embarrassing. I’m always such a disaster. My mom always says I’m like a human tornado. Always too much. Too loud and chatty. Too enthusiastic. I'm probably doing it again, aren’t I? Rambling too much, spilling coffee on your stuff. I swear, I’m usually much more professional than this. Well, mostly. Some days. When I’m not panicking because a client is ridiculously attractive and—oh no. I didn’t mean to say that part out loud.”
Her voice trailed off with a horrified squeak, her cheeks now a bright shade of red. Her shoulders curled inward a little, her exuberance fading, replaced by embarrassment that made my chest tighten. Someone had obviously convinced her that her natural personality—bright, open, and expressive—was something she needed to apologize for. The idea irritated the fuck out of me. Her vibrant energy was fucking captivating, and I wanted nothing more than to strangle anyone who’d made her think she needed to be ashamed of who she was.
Before she could retreat into herself any further, I leaned forward, gently capturing her wrist in one of my hands to stop her frantic cleaning efforts. I waited until her eyes finally lifted to meet mine.