Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“We’re adults. Consenting adults able to compartmentalize.” He sounded so damn rational, and I wanted to believe him so much, so I let him continue. “We can lie here and jerk off as a practicality to get to sleep. But it doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“Practicality.” I’d been using that same damn justification all day. It had worked for the not-a-date, but I wasn’t so sure I could convince myself that jerking off together was the equivalent of brushing our teeth at the same sink.
“Exactly.” Ambrose sure seemed set on this idea though. “No expectations. Nothing has to change between us.”’
Everything. Everything would change, and somehow I knew it. I’d had sex before where it hadn’t changed anything, had simply been two people getting off together, but this wasn’t that, and I wasn’t an idiot. Everything would change.
“Not sure I believe you, boss.”
“Oh. Boss.” All Ambrose’s wind seemed to leave him in a single long exhale. I’d meant the nickname as a gentle tease, but maybe it was better he thought I’d been literal. “I guess there is the whole Cressida hiring you thing. I don’t want to pressure you or make this weird. Heck. I’ll just be quiet now.”
My chest pinched something awful. Letting him clam up would undoubtedly be the smarter option, but I’d never been an A student.
“You don’t have to be quiet.” My own voice was so low I had to strain to hear myself.
“I don’t?” God. The hope in Ambrose’s question was killing me.
“You’re not pressuring me. I know you wouldn’t do that.” I reached for his arm in the dark, patted what I hoped was his forearm. The room was dark, but no way in hell was I gonna flip on a light. “It’s on me that I keep forgetting you’re a client, not a friend.”
“I could be a friend too. I’d like to be your friend.” Ambrose was always so damn open. Honest. Vulnerable. I wanted to put him in a happy bubble, like a perfect snow globe scene, where the world couldn’t touch him.
“You’d be a good friend,” I allowed.
“You promised me steak. And rock crawling.”
“I did.” Damn it. Maybe we were already friends. Which was both good and terrifying. The starched fabric of the white sheets was rough against my legs, the bedding more constricting by the minute.
“And I wouldn’t be the first friend you did…extracurriculars with, right?”
“Not gonna lie to you.” My voice was pained because my body was already leaping ten steps ahead of my more rational and reluctant brain.
“It’s rather tame, honestly. Two friends in the dark, jerking off. We don’t even have to touch if you don’t want.”
I wanted. Oh God, how I wanted to touch him. But admitting that wouldn’t be smart. “You’d like that?”
“Yeah. It would help us sleep—”
“Not as a knockout drug.” For all the talk about practicality, my body wanted something more. “It would turn you on?”
“Oh. Yeah.” He drew out each word, want clear. “You have no idea.”
“You already hard?” And, apparently, my cock had won the war with my brain. We were doing this.
Chapter Fifteen
Ambrose
“Very.” As soon as Harley asked the question, my body surged. This was really happening, and I went from an interested-and-hopeful half-hard to fully erect in point-five seconds. “Very, very hard.”
“Thought you were the writer.” His voice was a warm rumble now, less gruff and reluctant. His side of the bed sagged as if he’d decided to get more comfortable.
“You expect me to find adjectives and adverbs right now?” I laughed. For all the stacks of scripts I’d written, I’d never been particularly talented at things like dirty talk, but for Harley’s sake, I’d try. “I’m so hard it hurts. Feels like I’ve been that way for hours. Like I could get off, and I’d still be hard and ready to go again.”
“Hours, huh?” He sounded pleased, like torturing me all day was an accomplishment.
“I like you. I’m probably not the best at hiding that.” I might as well go ahead and admit he turned me on simply by existing in the world. I might not be able to do super-sexy talk, but I could do honest. “But you’re sexy, so you’re probably used to people falling over you with lust.”
“Ha. Probably fewer than you’re thinking.” He chuckled, which only served to get me harder. “And you’re easy. Drive your car while you nap. Feed you dinner. I haven’t done much.”
“You’ve done enough. And you’re sexy when you drive.”
“Yeah?” The bed moved again. Maybe he was already touching himself. “You like watching me shift?”
“Yes.” I shuddered as I danced my fingers down my torso, teasing myself by stopping short of my dick straining against my shorts. “You’ve got sexy hands.”
“Mmm.” Harley’s satisfied noise was sexier than anything I’d heard in porn. No way was I lasting long if he made more of those sounds.