Playing His Games (Billionaire Playboys #4) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire Playboys Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
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“Bagels, eggs, fruit okay?” I ask while checking my fridge. I need my housekeeper to do an order if Fawn is going to be staying here more often. The meals I order weekly are those of convenience, pop in the oven, good for one person, and after only having Fawn here for a handful of minutes, I already want her here in a much more permanent way.

“Yes, please. I’ll make the coffee,” she suggests. I drop my chin to my chest, needing a moment to gather myself for the asinine statement I’m about to make. Nothing punches me in the gut worse than seeing her hurt.

“Not happening. I’m taking care of you today. Now, you can either sit your pretty ass in that chair or you can plant it right here while I’m cooking.” I pat the quartz counter next to the six-burner gas stove. A shame the kitchen as a whole doesn’t get used near enough, a product of working twelve-hour days, coming home, hitting the gym, heating up a meal or chugging a protein shake only to go over a few work things, then sleep a solid six hours to do it all over again. The only downtime I allow myself is Sunday mornings. My mother would have my ass if I missed a brunch. Though, I might be forgiven should I bring a certain woman who’s currently shooting imaginary daggers at my back.

“Sylvester, you’re being ridiculous. Don’t scare me, and I won’t splatter the coffee everywhere.” I hear the tap of her heels along the tile floor and look over my shoulder. She’s heading toward the coffee pot instead of me. I drop what I’m doing and veer away from placing the food on the counter, needing to prep the eggs, fruit, and toast.

“Don’t even think about it.” I reach her in two strides, hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her back to my chest. Fawn is testing my will to take things slowly. Every twitch of her ass, the way she bites her bottom lip or has her tongue pressed between the two which I’m sure are the softest set of lips my mouth will ever touch.

“Sly, I’m not handicapped. I can make a cup of coffee with one hand.” She looks over her shoulder, causing her back to arch, ass to push into my hard cock.

“Damn it, Doe. The first time I take you, you will not be in pain, not in the way that I caused you from hot coffee.” The only pain I ever want to see her in is from taking my cock raw. “I’m the cause of the pain. It doesn’t sit well with me to watch you do something while you’re hurt.” I guide her away from the coffee pot, making good on my promise. The way she gives in to me, yielding her body, it doesn’t take much to walk her back toward where I was working. I spin her around, and my hand cups her neck, thumb sliding along her cheek while my other arm wraps around her lower back, lifting her up. Her legs are already wrapping around my waist, giving me exactly what we both need. More. More of every Goddamn thing. I’m done holding it back. When my mouth meets hers, neither of us is prepared for the feeling of one another. Fawn’s mouth opens on a whimper, allowing my tongue to slide in. Her ass hits the counter, and she gives in to my kiss. The first fucking taste, and I’m done. Fawn Peterson is my kryptonite, has been since the moment she walked into my office. This solidifies us, for-fucking-ever.

NINE

Fawn

It’s official. I’m a pushover. One kiss, is that really all it takes? My sister would be so disappointed. Not everyone can be an alpha boss babe like she is. I’m truly the beta in our sisterhood. In all honesty, she’d probably give in to Sylvester, too, a man who can read you like a book, taking care of moments when you don’t even realize you need them. Like right now, when I wake up on a couch, a pillow beneath my head and a blanket draped over my body. I did not fall asleep like this. When we made it to the soft brown leather couch, I was sitting up, shoes kicked off, feet beneath my ass, clicking through the channels on the massive television. Typical man, there were three remotes, confusing the hell out me. He took mercy on my soul and got it started up. Then I was able to channel surf while Sly was on the phone for a meeting that I warned him if he canceled after I rescheduled it twice, I’d order a car to go into work and I’d quit. Needless to say, he took the meeting, laptop on the coffee table, phone to his ear, hunched over while going through an affidavit while talking. The full meal, hot cup of coffee, plus the lack of sleep had my eyes feeling heavy. Add Sylvester’s deep and husky voice, and it was like a trifecta in lulling me to sleep.


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