Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I used to rehearse what this would be like to receive a compliment from Luke Hart. I smile widely, beaming from within. The fact he would think to address this specifically, after everything he just talked about with a criminal and a confessed killer, brings me back to the days of the early crush.
“Thank you, but it’s only a small thing.”
“No, it’s not. Often, people think they have to talk. Talk, talk, talk, but sometimes, in business, it’s better to let the enemy reveal themselves first.”
“What now?” I ask. “Are you going to pay him?”
“I’d never pay him a goddamn cent. He’s a dirtbag. He might’ve been lying about killing the man who ordered the hit on me, or he might’ve been telling the truth. It makes no difference. Sergei Romanov is a human trafficker, a drug dealer, and a serial killer. I’ll play the recording for the cops and let them take the lead from there.”
“You recorded the conversation?” I ask.
He grins, showing me his phone, and for the briefest, craziest moment, it’s like I’m getting a preview of what our first son will be like—all full of bluster, pride, and happiness.
“The whole thing.”
“I wouldn’t have thought to do that.”
“You will when you’ve graduated from the Luke Hart School of Business.”
“Is that a real place, or is it more a programming-project deal?”
He smirks, and I’m so happy we can joke about that white lie. It all seems so insignificant with everything that has happened since.
“It’s a one-on-one initiative. We’ll have to spend a lot of time together.”
“You know, somehow, I think I might be able to handle that.”
I lean over and kiss him, my confidence growing each time we get close. There’s just so much warmth in my heart, a never-ending supply of it—the fact he’s okay, the fact we’re okay, our relationship, despite the crush thing.
I can’t forget Christopher. If it wasn’t for me… Luke must sense my hesitation. He kisses me firmer, one hand returning to my hip as the other on his wounded side trails up my arm and finally cradles my cheek. His palm is warm against my face as we sink deeper into the kissing.
“Careful. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“If you keep stopping me from kissing you,” he says fiercely, “do you know what happens?”
I can’t believe how I can be with Luke. It’s like there’s been this version of me for years, this person I might be, but I’ve never let myself be her. I’ve always thought people would laugh at me, especially my crush, but with the real Luke—not the one who existed only in my mind for so long—I can lean up and stick my ass out.
“Oh, what sort of punishment would that be?”
He groans, glancing at the closed blinds, then reaches around and spanks my ass softly. It’s so inappropriate, and he does need to be careful. I should run for the cops, not whimper as his hand makes another stinging, kissing, starry contact with my ass.
“You take that like such a good girl,” he says, keeping his voice low. “It’s like you get wetter and wetter with each one.”
“I do,” I moan. “It’s heaven.”
“Good girl,” he growls, then spanks me again. “I need you so badly. I need to bend you over, strip your beautifully thick ass, spank you so your curvy body dances for me, and then slide my dick into you from behind.”
My sex tingles, my core aching with wetness, everything heating up as if something deep inside tells me this is it. We’re going to do it here in his hospital room. A loud knock on the door shatters the spell.
“Sir.”
It’s the other security guard. I think his name is Jamie.
“Yes?” Luke calls.
“I thought you’d want to know that Christopher’s surgery was successful.”
I smile, and so does Luke, but then Jamie goes on. “But he’s slipped into a coma. They’re not sure when he’s going to wake up.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Luke
“She wasn’t too happy about me returning to work,” I say, looking down at my phone at Kenny’s concerned face on the screen.
I’m in the back of my car, driving through the city. The bulletproof windows and the explosive-proof exterior are enough for me, but I cringe to think of Jane in one of these vehicles, driving back to the apartment. I know she’s okay. I texted her to let her know I would be with her soon, yet the fear still exists.
“It’s just a shoulder wound,” I grunt. “Not like Christopher.”
“He’s going to be okay, Luke.”
“How can you say that?”
My old friend runs a hand through his wild hair, sighing. “Because the world can’t be that shitty.”
“Doesn’t seem like much of a reason,” I say. “Russian mob, assassination attempts… It seems to me the world is plenty shitty.”
“Tell that to your smile every time you talk about Jane.”