Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I’ve loved working for him and hope that the experience I’ve gained here will help me secure a new job after Robert returns. I’m hoping to find a position that aligns with Josh’s time frame. After beating twenty other top graduates to secure the position, he’s currently interning at a tech company. Once his internship ends, we plan to return to our hometown, where we will get married.
Ignoring the pit that opens in my stomach at the thought of being stuck in a boring marriage, I fiddle with the damn angel.
“To the left, no right, a little more… A little more,” I roll my eyes at Linda’s nitpicking. She’s such a pain in my ass. I overreach, feeling the chair shift beneath me, the wheels I clicked into place coming loose.
Shit.
“Another tree?” The deep timbre of Mr. Carter’s voice calls out from the doorway of his office, making my legs turn to liquid and melt beneath me.
The chair rolls backwards, causing me to lurch forward. “Oh shit!” I cry out. My body collides with the branches of the tree, the tiny needles digging into my flesh like a damn cactus as I topple forward with a high-pitched yelp, practically bear-hugging the tree as I try to find purchase. It all happens so fast, a chorus of gasps sounding as I tumble like a hot mess to the floor, the tree coming with me, pinning me beneath it. With baubles shattering around me like sharp, painful confetti, my ass and back protest for a few seconds.
The tree is instantly lifted from me, my eyes blinking open and closed as I try to will this all to be a bad dream. Mortification leaves me paralyzed as a pair of well-dressed legs step into view on each side of my head. I chase the vision of his long legs and broad body up to two vivid blue eyes. Mr. Carter is looking down at me, shock written all over his handsome face. “Red lace?” he says, almost to himself, wide-eyed.
Reaching down, he slips his hands under my armpits, lifting me to my feet like I weigh nothing. My legs shake and threaten to dump me back on the floor. He must notice as his hands tighten against my body, the firm fingers sitting just below my side boobs. His strong, powerful body closes in to support me from behind, and I find myself leaning into him. A weird squeak sounds from my throat as heat fires up my neck, coloring my cheeks.
I really need to get laid. Josh has been too tired lately, apparently, but tonight I have a plan to change that. “Are you okay?” Mr. Carter asks, his breathing ragged. I want to say I’m fine, but my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, leaving me unable to form words.
“She’s fine,” Linda answers on my behalf, trying to drag me from Mr. Carter’s hold. But he refuses to release me, keeping me in his grip, his body heat blazing up my back. I know it can’t be what my brain is telling me it is, but there’s something thick and hard poking into my spine.
Something really freaking big.
“Linda, we don’t need another fucking tree,” he growls, guiding me to the chair that caused the havoc in the first place. When he releases me and my ass hits the cushion, I mourn the loss of his touch. “Look at me Poppy,” he tells me, taking a knee before me. A million fantasies flicker through my mind, leaving a damp trail in my panties.
He’s so close I can smell the rich scent of his expensive aftershave. Cedar mixed with a hint of cinnamon.
Everything about Tristan Carter screams dominant, smart and powerful. If I didn’t have Josh, I’d want this man to own me, make me his. I wouldn’t give a shit what people thought about that. I would happily be his dirty little secret that he plays with at his leisure. I’d live in a cage beneath his desk if he desired it. Damn, why does he have such an effect on me, and why do I feel like I’m cheating for just thinking these thoughts. Naughty girl.
“Poppy?” A slight frown tugs between his brows, his smoldering gaze holding me captive. His eyes are a striking blue, reminiscent of the ocean on a summer day. The vibrant color contrasts beautifully with his thick, dark lashes.
I realize I’ve been staring at him in silence. Licking my lips, I finally say, “Sorry, I’m okay.” I nod to reassure him, but he still doesn’t look convinced. My eyes sweep over his face, taking in every detail. His strong jawline dusted with a couple of days’ stubble, plush lips, straight nose, and a delicate silver scar shaped like a crescent moon beneath his right eye. You wouldn’t notice it unless you’re this close to him, and it does nothing to detract from his pure beauty. He looks like a Greek god statue on the day it was crafted—A perfect muse for the architect.