Wicked Submission (Scandalous Billionaires #9) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Scandalous Billionaires Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 138522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
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“Yes. There are things you don’t know about me. Maybe even things you don’t want to know. We all have a story. We all have a history that shapes who we are and mine made me want to be alone. Forever, Abbie. I wanted to be alone forever. Maybe I still should, but you’re here now. And I can’t seem to want you to leave.”

His emotions punch at me. He’s been hurt, lived some kind of hell I want to understand. I want to be here long enough for him to trust me to share it. That time isn’t now and I know that. “I can’t seem to want to leave.”

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, rolling me back around, and wrapping himself around me again. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“And I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Yes,” he murmurs near my ear. “You will. And I will. And I do believe I’ll have you for breakfast.”

I smile and allow my lashes to lower, drifting into a warm, wonderful haze of a safe slumber. I truly feel safe for the first time in a very long time. My mind tries to pull me out of the moment, shooting images at me, memories of the past. For just a moment, I’m back in time, in my old bedroom, in the closet when Kenneth rushes into the tiny spaces and shoves me against the wall. “Don’t fuck with me, you little bitch!”

I jerk into awareness and when I would sit up, Gabe pulls me closer, his strong arms holding me tighter. “Nightmare,” he whispers. “But whatever it is, whoever it is, can’t have you. I have you now.”

I relax into the hard lines of his body and I let the sweet warmth of this man claim me again. He has me now. I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe. I fade into slumber and this time there is no nightmare to wake me up.

Chapter fifteen

Abbie

Iwake to the distinct scent of coffee.

I inhale and turn over to discover myself still in Gabe’s bed, while he’s not, at all. Lying on his pillow is a note that reads: Abbie, in neat male handwriting. Gabe’s handwriting. Abbie. He calls me Abbie and I like it. Despite the way it attaches to my father, I like it. I like him. I think. Where is he? I sit up and open the note and read: Orgasm, me, and coffee waiting downstairs. I’ll throw in pancakes if you promise to stay with me again tonight.

Heat rushes to my cheeks and my sex clenches with the idea of that orgasm, but a moment later, I re-read the part of the note that says: if you stay with me again tonight. He already wants me to stay again tonight? Which implies he wants me to spend Saturday with him. I shouldn’t. I can’t. I want to. I set the note on the nightstand and look around his room, which I barely glanced at last night. I was too busy focusing on the man, his tattoo, and orgasm number three.

The room is large. The furniture is oversized. Two navy-blue cushy chairs frame a fireplace in the corner. An arched window that is the center of the main wall must have internal blinds because I can’t see outside, but I wonder if the ocean and the Statue of Liberty are beyond. His safe place above the city. Our safe place last night and that was unique and special in ways that were unexpected. He’s unexpected.

I throw away the covers, naked inside and out with this man in so many ways. I scoot to the edge of the giant bed, and its size, well, that is the one thing with Gabe that I find to be as expected. Most men have giant beds, which I surmise to be some kind of macho alpha thing. Big bed, big cock, or something like that. Not that Gabe acts out that symbolism, but Kenneth does. I press my hands to my face. I’m comparing again. I’m the only man here, Gabe said last night. I drop my hands and press them to the bed. I wish that were true, but my ex is a monster who won’t allow that to be the case.

I stand up and hunt for my clothes, but I can’t find them. I scoop up Gabe’s T-shirt and pull it over my head, the spicy, earthy, delicious scent of him teasing my nostrils. This man smells like temptation and sin and satisfaction. My satisfaction. If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to forget to protect him from my ex and me from him. I hurry to the bathroom, use it, wash up, including my face and glance down to find another note.

I pick it up and find an unopened toothbrush underneath it. I open the card to read: I keep extras on hand and yes, I took your clothes. We both want you to stay. He doesn’t get to change that.


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