Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I needed space.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” Shiloh said, turning to go.
“I’ll walk back with you,” I offered, latching onto an exit.
“Actually, Aspen,” Lucian announced. “I was hoping we could go over a few more points I wanted to include in our interviews.”
The words, yes sir, tried to spill from my lips, but I clamped them shut.
Exactly why I needed to get out. Pulling my shoulders back, I took a deep breath and met his gaze, no longer worried about earning his pride or finding disappointment that might stare back at me.
I was Aspen fucking Quinn, and I didn’t need his approval.
The more I said it, the more I distanced myself from earlier. The more control I took of the situation, the more the shame faded.
“We can talk later. Thank you for lunch, Mr. Daire.” A muscle clenched along his jaw, and I didn’t bother holding back the tip of my lips. “Let me know when we have another interview scheduled.”
With that, I faced Shiloh and asked her how her day was, dismissing Lucian as I walked away.
Shiloh’s gaze still held a suspicious glint, but I ignored it, taking my time to field each and every question. Once we entered the elevator, I pressed the button and laughed softly.
“You’re acting like you caught us fucking or something,” I teased, hoping that if I addressed the possibility first, then she’d be less likely to believe we did.
“Did I?” she asked after a hesitation.
“Oh my gosh, Shiloh. Ew. No.” I threw everything I had behind the denial while trying not to protest too much.
She studied me, and I struggled to slow my breathing and keep the heat from turning my cheeks crimson.
“Listen, Aspen,” she started, and my heart stumbled over itself. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you—in fact, I don’t want to know.” I opened my mouth to object, but she held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. All that does matter is that you be careful. I like Lucian as a businessman, but I’ve known men like him before. Things almost always end in a painful trainwreck. So, just…be careful.”
Despite the sincerity and concern in her words, despite the lack of judgment and knowing I could admit anything to her, I wasn’t ready. I wanted to scoff and laugh and deny, deny, deny.
So, I did.
“Like I said before. I plan on stealing this entire company out from under him. I just need to focus on the five percent majority first and hiring someone that will direct the company in a way that keeps a company worth stealing. I don’t have time to fuck him.”
Even as I spouted my objection, I mentally pulled up my calendar and wondered when I could create enough time to be with him again.
Even as I knew I needed to put distance between us, I knew I’d see him again.
Even as I swore I didn’t need his approval, I looked forward to the power I felt under his pride-filled gaze.
Even as I promised I could control this, a part of me knew I didn’t want to.
The truth was that no matter what happened, I was beginning to worry I was screwed either way.
CHAPTER 18
LUCIAN
My godfather looked pale against the blue cushioned booth. I’d followed the hostess to the table in the back corner by the window, cataloguing the deeper hallows carving out his cheeks and sunken eyes, appearing darker under the shining sun. Once he noticed my approach, he smiled, banishing at least some of the shadows clinging to him.
Guilt ate away at my chest as I watched him white-knuckle the table to brace himself and stand.
“Please don’t get up,” I almost begged.
He scoffed. “Of course. How else would I give you a hug?”
Instead of the usual quick embrace and slapping backs, he held on a little longer, each second pricking at my awareness. It reminded me of when he informed me he had cancer, leaving me to wonder if he planned to drop another bomb now.
No, I assured myself. He’d let me know privately, like he had before.
Except, he and Grace had sent me countless invites to dinner over the past few weeks. All of which I’d turned down.
I wanted to pretend it was because I was busy, between keeping up with work, adding in the Quinn Music Group acquisition, and taking every opportunity to control Aspen, but my conscience wouldn’t allow it. At the root of it all, guilt sat heavy on my chest. The lies hung around my neck, and I wanted to ignore them—ignore why I even said them.
So, like the grown man I was, I avoided them all together; including the people I lied to. Only serving to add more shame rather than offering any solace. Instead, I focused my time on Aspen, calling her to my office any chance I could get just so I could watch her fight so hard before giving in. Fight her submission, her discomfort, or the orgasm I always made her give me. I focused my time on making her come while remaining in control.