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Seventy-three
Stupid. Anyone can do this. I am not falling for this lame move, he will change it in a few days. A wave of emotions crashes over me, my toes curl in satisfaction and my lips curve into a blinding smile which I desperately try to wipe off when Clarissa glances my way.
He identifies himself as my husband first. That should mean something. I lick my lips, it does, it means a lot. To me. My heart grows heavy, I groan, it doesn’t change what he did.
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Mr Reluctant Billionaire Seventy-four
The deep, masculine voice runs over me like melted chocolate, my knees buck and I lean on the door for support. Is he aware of my presence? Is this a trap? Shouldn't he have asked for my identity? I smoothen the front of my jacket, inhale and push the door open.Brandon rises with an urgency that causes his seat to clatter to the ground, I swallow my disappointment as he halts midstride. He wasn’t expecting me. Setting my bag on the floor, I take tentative steps forward and he bridges the gap between us in a few strides.&
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Seventy-five
Those words, spoken barely above a whisper sends searing heat straight to my core. I choke on an appropriate reply, offering him my first genuine smile since I stepped into his office. If he keeps saying the right things, I will wipe his name off my black book.Unknotting the gown with unsteady hands, he attempts to help but my glare keeps his arms glued to his sides. I need to capture his expression when he sees me. From the slight creasing of his eyebrows down to the dilation of his pupils. The lust, raw desire clouding his amber eyes. I want to see everything, to bask in the emotions I can evoke.Finally getting on track, I gulp when the knot comes undone, hold the ends of the jacket loosely between my fingers. Brandon’s confusion at my hesitation is almost comical, I might have laughed but I am too focused on getting this right, calming my racing heart.I count to ten under my breath, maintaining his gaze. Swallo
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Seventy-six
Callused palms gently shake me awake. My eyes flutter open, my brows crease as I stare into amber eyes. He blinks, his lips curl into a smile that jogs my memory and I giggle."Brandon."Pressing my lips to his in a chaste kiss, I pull back, almost shy under his scrutiny and he chuckles. Propped up by a throw pillow, he stares down at me like he wants to uncover all my layers and take care of me forever. A feeling settles in my tummy. I like it. My lips pucker, he pecks me and I cup his face, giggling at the feel of his beards on my palms.We revel in the comfort of each other’s presence until I ask, "How was your meeting?"His arm snakes around my waist, he pulls me closer so our knees are touching. "Fine."Curious to know more, I pester him. "Just fine?" My eyes wander to the window, the night sky is illuminated by the lights coming from other skyscrapers. "I want d
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Seventy-seven
And then, my mouth closes over Brandon's shaft. I am slow at first, flicking my tongue over the salty liquid glistening on top. It tastes nothing like bananas or lollipops but much better than his sperm did the last time or maybe that's my imagination. I don't know, I don't care right now and I let my anger tainted with lust lead me into sucking him off.Brandon's hand moves to my hair, lowers to the back of my neck without extra pressure and for a fleeting moment, I feel like those porn stars blowing off their fellow actors, on their knees and at the mercy of the man. The rising disgust recedes when his moans bounce off the wall, I lap on his shaft, take all of his precum before my mouth closes over more than half of his pulsing length which hits the base of my throat and I freeze.Breathe.I try to as tears rush up to my eyes, his hand guides my head back down when I make to adjust and I grab fistfuls of the blanket lying carelessly by his waist until the wave
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Seventy-eight
In the early hours of the morning, when the sun has barely risen from its slumber, I wait until Brandon walks into our bedroom before letting my towel pool at my feet. His scent permeates the air, I don't turn to him but I catch apassing glimpse of him in the mirror.Dressed in a navy blue suit fitted to his body, he is ready for work. I let my hairbrush slide to the floor and squat to retrieve it, making sure to give him a full view of my ass. Our eyes meet in the mirror when I stand, he thrusts his hands into his pockets, offers me a smile. His tie is loose, I should help him with it but I can't bring myself to move."Good morning, wife. How was your night?"I set the brush to the table and finger comb my curls, loving the attention my naked back is attracting. Seconds roll by, I drape the towel on the chair and offer him a forced smile."Fine," I reply. He loves my hair down so I put it up in a knot at the centre of my head.The twitch of
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Seventy-nine
The awkwardness at home is impregnable, the tension so thick it stifles. I don't know what I hope to achieve with my recent attitude but I am tired of being vulnerable and alone in love. Telling my best friend this doesn't shield me from her hostility or the cold glare she levels at me, I shrink under her gaze, swallow and grip the steering wheel."Is this a joke?" Clarissa asks for the third time since she got into the car, I purse my lips and shake my head slowly. In a heavily accentuated voice, she adds, "Are you mad?""It's just hair," I reply and pat my short, black hair with gold streaks. "It will grow back."Coiffed at the back with a pixie cut in front that sometimes falls into my eyes, I have to admit, the new hairstyle looks good on me. I take a long peek at myself in the rearview mirror, flash my reflection a smile much to Clarissa's horror and make a peace sign.My brown eyes crinkle at the corners from trying to maintain the smile on my lips,
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Eighty
No calls, no texts. Nothing. Radio silence. I pace the length of the kitchen in his shirt with the top buttons open to reveal a glimpse of my breasts in a black, cotton bra. Maybe I shouldn't have unblocked him. Maybe he’s tired. My hand finds the pocket of my shorts, a tiny jean that reveals half of my buttcheeks under his shirt, I stop in front of the fridge.A second rolls by, I open the fridge to see it has been restocked with the same brand of dark chocolate I have been binging on. These bittersweet junk must be the reason my breasts appear bigger. And sore too. I barely eat what Brandon cooks even though my appetite has largely improved but I snack on the most unhealthy items I can find.It has nothing to do with our fights, he just doesn't cook what my stomach wants. And I am too obsessed with ignoring him to request a different meal. A pang of momentary guilt hits me when my hand closes around the last batch of chocolates, I shrug it off, close the fridge
Mr Reluctant Billionaire Eighty-one
Silence is our best friend as Brandon carries me up the stairs. He lowers me to the bed, I latch on to him, afraid to let go for fear of him leaving the room. Panic sinks its claws into my heart when he retracts my hands from his body, I gulp, he hasn't said a word since my confession downstairs. I should have kept my mouth shut, kept kissing him."Brandon," I say. His face is unreadable, my heart skips. "I'm sorry for what I said."He kneels between my legs, smiles. "Don't be."My fingers reach for his beards, they are shinier like he took extra time with them today but he turns his face away and my hand drops to my legs. I try to remind myself it has nothing to do with me, that this is not revenge and he still finds me attractive. Pulling the cover to my chest, tears coat my lashes, I take in a deep breath and exhale slowly."I am sorry." Brandon squeezes my knees, I clutch the bedcover
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