Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
There. Oh, God. There. My soul twists from my body, euphoric.
He stills as I grind against him, crying out, everything around me ceasing to make sense. There is only Oliver over me, inside me, as I’m consumed by pleasure.
Chapter 7
OLIVER
“Hey.”
“Is dried grass. Is not an appropriate greeting,” I reply.
“Thanks, Mom.” Fin, my friend and business partner, saunters into the suite. “I’ll try for polite next time.”
“Liar.” I swing the door closed. “I thought we were meeting downstairs.”
“I was early.” He pauses midturn, unable to resist his reflection in the wall mirror. He slides his hand through his fair hair and, satisfied all is as it should be, drops negligently onto the end of the sofa. “Actually, you were late. But don’t let that minor detail bother you.”
“By five minutes,” I murmur, making my way across the room to the credenza. “And it’s breakfast, not a merger.”
“It was breakfast, now it’s brunch.”
“Any excuse for a mimosa.” With my back to him, my mouth curls as I swipe up my wallet.
“I’m not your girlfriend.”
“You’re almost pretty enough,” I reply, shooting him a look over my shoulder.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. My Time Is Valuable. Where’s my apology, huh? You give me shit for my timekeeping.”
“Because it’s mostly an alien concept to you.”
“Why are you staring at your wallet? Did last night’s date clean you out?”
I turn to face him as I slip it into my back pocket. “Paying for companionship is more your thing, isn’t it?”
“One time.” Finger in the air and grin unrepentant, Fin adds, “It happened one time. And she told me she was a model.” His finger becomes accusatory. “And I didn’t pay for it in the end, so it doesn’t count.”
“If you say so.” Leaning back, I fold my arms across my chest.
“Speaking of women”—he glances over his shoulder in the direction of my bedroom—“where is the delightful Selena, anyway?”
My answer is a nonverbal who?
“Or is it Elizabeth this weekend? Carolina? Whichever horsey woman you’re boning this week.”
I slide him a bored look. Fin has never met Selena, Elizabeth, or anyone else coming out of my bedroom.
“One of these days I’m gonna catch you out,” he says with an admonishing wag of his finger.
“Unlikely.”
“I know women are the reason you live in a hotel.”
“I live here because it’s convenient.”
“Exactly what I said.”
“And because I own it.”
“You also own an apartment block in Knightsbridge, commercial space on Canary Wharf, a huge chunk of the Docklands, but I don’t see you bedding down at any of those for the night.”
My chest expands, though I stifle the sigh. “No one lives in the Docklands, Fin.”
“No one you’d speak to, you mean.”
I push off from the credenza. “Shall we?”
“Wait. All this conversation, and you haven’t said a word.”
“I’m sure I’ve said several. And I’m about to say several other less-pleasant ones.”
“About yesterday.”
I’m startled for a moment but then remember Fin doesn’t know about Eve or the tension bunching my shoulders that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with waking to an empty bed. An empty bed and a scribbled note on hotel stationery.
Oliver, thank you for your friendship.
Those were some benefits . . .
Eve x
Friends.
I’ve never had a friend I wanted to fuck my name, my fingerprints, into.
It’s been a long time since I’d woken alone after a one-night stand. Living in a hotel has many conveniences. The door is always open. I don’t need to maintain extra staff or security. The location is convenient and very secluded, given I live in the penthouse with my own elevator, and if I require anything—from a coffee at three o’clock in the morning to condoms at that vital moment, the concierge is just a phone call away.
Despite Fin’s assertions, my private life isn’t conducted out of this suite. I book another, then explain to my companion that I have an early meeting but that the room has a late checkout. That they should order breakfast or whatever. Meanwhile, I just pop upstairs unseen.
It’s a win-win situation. A sexual connection without the need to suffer through that awkward morning after. I feel my brows pinch. I would’ve settled for awkward over alone this morning.
“I expected to find you doing cartwheels.”
“What was that?” I glance up, realizing I’m standing halfway between the credenza and the door and Fin is eyeing me narrowly.
“You haven’t heard? Ah, man.” He rubs a hand across his mouth as though to hide his delight. “This is gonna give you such a fuckin’ hard-on.”
I rotate my wrist. Please, go on. Or get to the point.
“You know Atherton was supposed to get married yesterday?”
The sound of his name usually makes me want to curse, but this time I find it hard to curtail my smile. “Was he?”
“You’ve heard,” Fin retorts flatly.
“No.” I give a quick shrug, not wanting to be too disingenuous. The fact is I hadn’t known. Not until I’d slid my arm around his would-be bride. “I take it he didn’t?”