Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
His shoulders were broad, his arms looking so thick I wondered if he could crush bone with little effort. The dark, long-sleeved shirt he wore couldn’t hide his muscles; in fact, I was pretty sure they accented them. And his gray slacks covered tree-trunk-sized thighs. He had to be well over six-and-a-half feet tall of solid strength.
The most impure thoughts slammed into my head, ones I shouldn’t be thinking about concerning a stranger, but especially about my boss.
I actually felt myself blushing at the lewd image playing on a reel in my mind.
How would it feel to be under him? How much would it hurt to have him inside me? I had absolutely no damn doubt his dick was the size of my forearm, and on that thought—on that image—I broke out in a cold sweat.
I swallowed, my throat tight, realizing we’d just been standing here, me checking him out, Finland Hawthorne obviously noticing that. I was instantly humiliated that our first encounter was him noticing me all but eye-fucking him. And that was a pretty good description of what I’d been doing.
I stared into his eyes, ones that reminded me of an icy blue tundra. The shade was what I imagined the ocean looked like far north, where it was frigid and barren.
His jaw was cut severely, square, and couldn’t be called anything but masculine. Although I could tell he was freshly shaven, he still sported a five o’clock shadow, as if every part of his body refused to fall in line, to follow the rules.
My face was on fire, and I cleared my throat and started rubbing my hands up and down my shorts. It was then I looked down at myself, realizing how unprofessionally dressed I was. I closed my eyes and cursed internally.
I was so unprepared, but what I hadn’t been expecting was my employer to be so fucking fine he literally made me speechless.
“Ms. Monsieur, I presume?”
I snapped my head up to look at his face, the sound of his voice slamming right into the most intimate part of my body. And by that, I meant my pussy.
My pussy clenched painfully, the inner muscles aching as if seeking something substantial to grip. Like his cock. Like his dick that I could tell was probably massive.
His voice was deep, so gruff it almost didn’t sound real. I could picture him in some medieval time. Maybe even prehistoric, a caveman, or a Viking wielding an ax, a barbarian about to chop down any foe who stood in his way.
“Mr. Hawthorne?”
He nodded slowly.
He certainly looked like a warrior, a warrior I wanted to be under while he pillaged between my thighs.
Oh my God. I was losing my damn mind for this man.
I noted, realizing several seconds had passed where I hadn’t responded. “Yes. That’s me.” Again, I felt like a fool but straightened my shoulders and continued to look him in the eye. I didn’t want to seem like I had absolutely no control over my body, but I had a strong feeling that’s exactly how I was portraying myself.
He stepped aside and pulled the door open a little bit more, a silent but universal gesture for me to enter. I stepped over the threshold and could instantly smell him. It was a spicy, woodsy aroma, expensive yet wild and free.
Again, my pussy clenched, and I embarrassingly felt how my panties became damp.
“Do you have bags in the car?”
I froze at the tone of his voice, this demand, yet I had a feeling that was just how he was, how he spoke.
I nodded and licked my lips. He glanced outside at my car then a second later back at me. He held my gaze with his own for an uncomfortable amount of time, as if he could read my thoughts, see the dirty images running through my head.
“I’ll get them then show you to your room.”
I nodded in response, but he was already outside, striding—stalking—to my car like a sleek panther moving through the jungle.
If this was how I felt upon first meeting him, I didn’t know how I’d last or control my libido working for Finland Hawthorne.
3
Fin
I allowed her to ascend the stairs first, not just because I wanted to be a gentleman, but because her ass would be right in my line of sight. Apparently, when it came to this woman, I had zero self-control.
I adjusted my stiff cock as we took the steps, not wanting her to see how I responded physically to her.
As I watched the way the perfect mounds of her bottom moved under her shorts, my cock jerked violently. Every time she lifted her leg to take the next step, I got a tiny peek of that crease where her ass met her thigh. I groaned deeply, thought I’d only done it in my head, but realized the sound had spilled from me deep and low.