Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
I’m about to strip and head for the shower when I see it. Dead center on my snow-white pillow, like a bullseye at a firing range, is a neon pink sticky note.
I take a step closer. I can see her handwriting from here—round, loopy letters with the occasional flare. I pick up the note between two fingers, careful, like it’s rigged to explode. The second it’s close to my face, I catch her scent, all warm vanilla and lavender. It floods my head so fast I have to grip the note tight to keep my hand from shaking.
I read it and blink several times, then I read it again.
For a second, I just stare. Then the urge to laugh hits so hard my stomach clenches. I can’t remember the last time I actually laughed. It bubbles up and out before I can stop it, a loud, rough bark of surprise that bounces off the walls. My hand goes straight to my mouth like I can catch it, but it’s too late. The sound’s already out there, echoing around the room.
I drop onto the bed, still holding the note. My exhaustion’s gone, replaced by something raw. My body is humming. My cock is thick and alive, twitching in my jeans, ready to go.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, looking at the note, realizing how stupid this situation has gotten. I’m not a fucking teenager, but I’ve been acting like one since my new housekeeper moved in. Instead of fighting what I’m feeling for Sierra, I should’ve been giving her a reason to fall for me, too.
I shove up off the bed, heart jackhammering. It’s time for me to rectify my mistake. Sierra wants me to talk to her, so I’ll give her what she wants. My hands shake, and there’s just this wild, electric buzz in my veins, like the first time I crashed a dirt bike and realized I liked the danger. I want her. Fuck, I need her like oxygen.
I stalk downstairs, boots barely making a sound on the old wood. Kitchen’s empty except for the hum of the fridge and the ghost of her perfume lingering in the air. It makes me even crazier. I run a hand down my chest, try to steady my breathing. Doesn’t work. I spot her shadow through the butler’s pantry, flicking around like she’s on a mission. She’s wiping down counters, humming some song under her breath, oblivious. The sight of those yoga pants hugging her hips turns my cock to stone.
I freeze for a second in the doorway, fighting the urge to drag her to the nearest flat surface and fuck her until we both forget our goddamn names.
Instead, I clear my throat.
She jumps, then whirls around. “Jesus!” Her hand goes to her chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”
My mouth twitches. “You wanted to talk.” It comes out rough, way rougher than I meant. I rest one hand on the doorframe and stare down at her. “Here I am.”
For a split-second, she just stands there, blinking like she can’t quite decide if she wants to yell at me or throw a dish towel at my head. I can see her chest rising and falling under that oversized T-shirt. She looks pissed. And fuck me, but it’s hot.
I take a step forward, crowding her up against the counter. The look on her face, that stubborn tilt to her chin, makes my cock throb like I’m about to bust open my damn jeans.
“Wow.” Her lips part, and her brown eyes go wide for a second. “I didn’t really think that would work.”
“It was time.” I don’t miss the way her eyes flick down to my mouth, then back up. Goddamn. It eases something inside me, knowing I affect her, too. “You want me to talk? Let’s talk.”
“Okay, big guy,” she shoots back, folding her arms. I can see the flush creeping up her throat, spreading hot and red across her skin. “You go first.”
I close the last few inches between us, trapping her with my hands on either side of the counter. She smells like lavender and vanilla and everything I crave. My body is at war with itself, but I’m past the point of pretending.
“You drive me fucking insane.” The words are out of my mouth before I can second-guess them. That definitely is not what I’d planned to say. Before I’m able to change directions, my mouth continues down its runaway path. “I can’t think straight with you in the house. I tried keeping it professional.” I lean in, voice dropping. “Didn’t work.”
She just stares, lips parted, breaths coming out shaky and uneven. “Oh.” I lean in, just a breath away, close enough that I feel the heat rolling off her skin, and fuck, it’s intoxicating. Her lashes flutter and her mouth opens wider, like she’s primed for whatever I’m about to do to her. I’ve never wanted anyone this bad in my entire goddamn life.