Death eBook 9.8.16 by Lila Rose, Justine Littleton Page B
Authors: Lila Rose, Justine Littleton
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assistant.
Okay, first, I really needed to get my head rechecked by the good old doctor because the connection between my thoughts and my mouth kept crossing and misfiring. Second, how in the heck did the silly-shirt-wearing, flirty, good-looking, but total playboy brother end up owning one of the top investment firms in the country, more likely the world? Forbes magazine did an article a few months back that said something about a person needing to be worth at least five billion to get their phone call answered by Connor’s company.
Still, it all had to be kept for another time, because my sexy whack-a-doodle was back and opening the car door.
Disappointment that the other brothers weren’t there caused my hands to shake. Mostly Falcone; however, I was a fast learner, so I knew better than to mention that particular name to my handsome hothead.
“Was your ride comfortable?” Dean asked like the fate of the world and the life of the poor driver depended on my answer. The boy really needed to lighten up.
“Well, the seats were simply too welcoming, the leather was buttery soft, and I think the driver purposely hit that pebble on Third Street just to annoy me,” I overstated in the snootiest way I could muster with a straight face, and shot a dirty look at the front of the town car.
There was a moment of stunned silence before Dean threw his head back and burst out laughing. It was a deep, meaningful laugh from the gut. I never thought a man laughing could be sexy. I’d assumed it was one of those romance novel myths once again, but dear Book Goddess above, the man was so stunning, he practically glowed. Still laughing, he threw his arm around my neck, gently pulling me in close, and kissed my forehead.
My body shuddered. Did I just come? I think I just came, or at the very least piddled myself in glee like a happy puppy.
“My jewel, you might be just perfect.” O h, I like that. My jewel, I like it a whole lot. He smiled, offered a wave to Mr. S., and then grabbed my hand, bag, and quite possibly my heart, and led us to the revolving doors. Okay, I’d always been partial to revolving doors; it may be a bit childish, but they were one of those simple joys in life. Though, that joy was currently sharing a segment with Dean. I would be drafting a new law in my free time that made revolving doors a required part of all buildings in the future. For those 8.4 seconds, Dean was everything. He seemed to invade all my senses. Out the corner of my eyes, I admired the sight of his muscles flexing through his shirt as he moved, and enjoyed the sound of his steady, even breaths, the feel of his strong, warm hand guiding mine, but it was his scent that obliterated my common sense. His scent made me crazy with need, causing my heart to beat erratically. His scent was an all-male musk, with a hint of cologne. The only reason I didn’t climb him like a squirrel on a tree was at that moment he dropped my hand, and our connection dimmed as we stepped into the lobby. Normally, I’d have been upset by the rejection, but the look in his eyes as he took a step away from me made it clear he was just as affected as I was. Good, at least this lusty need isn’t one-sided.
“Follow me, the elevators are this way.” He gestured with a flick of his hand. I’d have to be deaf to miss the husky tone his voice had taken on. I was officially screwed. At the rate I was going, I’d have to throw the panties I was wearing out. There would be no saving them; my private place was like El Niño whenever Dean was around. Why was he bringing such an intense physical reaction from me? It was as if my heart had already fallen for him, but my mind was still standoffish.
I decided to take a moment to calm myself with a deep shuddering breath and take in my surroundings. The lobby seemed to be a football field in length. To my right were double doors to a large walled-in garden and coffee shop, which, by the smell of it, was about to open for the
Okay, first, I really needed to get my head rechecked by the good old doctor because the connection between my thoughts and my mouth kept crossing and misfiring. Second, how in the heck did the silly-shirt-wearing, flirty, good-looking, but total playboy brother end up owning one of the top investment firms in the country, more likely the world? Forbes magazine did an article a few months back that said something about a person needing to be worth at least five billion to get their phone call answered by Connor’s company.
Still, it all had to be kept for another time, because my sexy whack-a-doodle was back and opening the car door.
Disappointment that the other brothers weren’t there caused my hands to shake. Mostly Falcone; however, I was a fast learner, so I knew better than to mention that particular name to my handsome hothead.
“Was your ride comfortable?” Dean asked like the fate of the world and the life of the poor driver depended on my answer. The boy really needed to lighten up.
“Well, the seats were simply too welcoming, the leather was buttery soft, and I think the driver purposely hit that pebble on Third Street just to annoy me,” I overstated in the snootiest way I could muster with a straight face, and shot a dirty look at the front of the town car.
There was a moment of stunned silence before Dean threw his head back and burst out laughing. It was a deep, meaningful laugh from the gut. I never thought a man laughing could be sexy. I’d assumed it was one of those romance novel myths once again, but dear Book Goddess above, the man was so stunning, he practically glowed. Still laughing, he threw his arm around my neck, gently pulling me in close, and kissed my forehead.
My body shuddered. Did I just come? I think I just came, or at the very least piddled myself in glee like a happy puppy.
“My jewel, you might be just perfect.” O h, I like that. My jewel, I like it a whole lot. He smiled, offered a wave to Mr. S., and then grabbed my hand, bag, and quite possibly my heart, and led us to the revolving doors. Okay, I’d always been partial to revolving doors; it may be a bit childish, but they were one of those simple joys in life. Though, that joy was currently sharing a segment with Dean. I would be drafting a new law in my free time that made revolving doors a required part of all buildings in the future. For those 8.4 seconds, Dean was everything. He seemed to invade all my senses. Out the corner of my eyes, I admired the sight of his muscles flexing through his shirt as he moved, and enjoyed the sound of his steady, even breaths, the feel of his strong, warm hand guiding mine, but it was his scent that obliterated my common sense. His scent made me crazy with need, causing my heart to beat erratically. His scent was an all-male musk, with a hint of cologne. The only reason I didn’t climb him like a squirrel on a tree was at that moment he dropped my hand, and our connection dimmed as we stepped into the lobby. Normally, I’d have been upset by the rejection, but the look in his eyes as he took a step away from me made it clear he was just as affected as I was. Good, at least this lusty need isn’t one-sided.
“Follow me, the elevators are this way.” He gestured with a flick of his hand. I’d have to be deaf to miss the husky tone his voice had taken on. I was officially screwed. At the rate I was going, I’d have to throw the panties I was wearing out. There would be no saving them; my private place was like El Niño whenever Dean was around. Why was he bringing such an intense physical reaction from me? It was as if my heart had already fallen for him, but my mind was still standoffish.
I decided to take a moment to calm myself with a deep shuddering breath and take in my surroundings. The lobby seemed to be a football field in length. To my right were double doors to a large walled-in garden and coffee shop, which, by the smell of it, was about to open for the
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