Blush (Black Rose #1) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Black Rose Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
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This will be my last scene with her. We both know this.

And normally? I’d be grieving the loss. Blossom is an excellent partner. We’re attracted to each other, and we enjoy each other.

I have effectively ruined what we had.

Guilt eats away at me, as if it’s inside me, like a scorpion trying to claw its way out. How could I do something so rash? How could I have violated Blossom’s trust this way?

I wasn’t thinking of her, and that’s on me.

I was thinking only of myself. I was trying to get Mandy out of my mind.

And Blossom had to pay the price.

I could be kicked out of the club for this. I won’t be. I know Blossom, and she won’t report me. This is why subs have safe words, after all. She’ll accept my apology, and we will move on.

I dress her wound. It’s not serious. It’s barely oozing blood at this point. Still, I hate myself for it.

And I know the truth now.

If I could do this to Blossom…who knows what I could do to Mandy?

Perhaps I need a break from Black Rose. Perhaps I need a break from sex altogether.

Biggest thing of all?

I need a break from Mandy.

Chapter Nineteen

Amanda

Michael asks for my number and offers to take me home.

I give him my number but decline to let him take me home. I’m not ready for him to know where I live, and I’m certainly not ready to get into a car with him alone.

I don’t ask if he has a car. Most likely we’d share a cab, he’d see me up to my apartment, and then leave. He’s been a gentleman all evening. I have no reason to think he’d act otherwise. However, despite what Jackson thinks of me, I’m not innocent and naïve. I know better than to let a man see where I live when I just met him.

“I need to be going, then,” he says. “I have an early appointment tomorrow.”

“On a Saturday?” I ask.

“Yes. I’m a personal trainer.”

Funny. I haven’t asked him what he does until he just volunteered. Frankie and Gigi were talking up such a storm at the table, I didn’t ask anyone anything.

“That’s so interesting,” I say. “Where do you work?”

“At the gym around the corner. Body Flex.”

“I go there every once in a while,” I tell him. “I don’t have a membership, but that’s Frankie’s gym. She gives me a free pass every now and then.”

“That’s strange. I’ve never seen her there.”

“Honestly, I think she just goes and sits in the steam room. I mean look at her. She hardly needs to work out.”

“Neither do you,” he says.

“I could lose a few,” I say.

“You know,” Michael says, “I think you look perfect the way you are. But if you want to tone up a little, I can help you with that. I won’t even charge you for the first session.” He smiles.

That’s not a bad idea, especially with Frankie’s wedding coming up. I wouldn’t mind my arms and legs looking a little more buff as I strut down the aisle in that plum dress.

“Okay. I’ll see if Frankie has another pass.”

“You don’t need to. I’ve got your phone number. I’ll email you a few passes. Just give me a call when you want to come in. Free first session.”

“Actually…how about tomorrow? I’m free.”

“Sure. I’m free after two p.m. Want to meet at the gym then? Around three?”

“I’d like that.”

He fiddles with his phone. “I just texted you a pass. See you tomorrow. I’m sorry I have to leave so early, but I have this one client who loves to start at six in the morning.”

“I understand.”

He gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek and then walks toward the exit.

His friends are still at the table with Gigi and Frankie. I should probably leave as well. I start walking toward the door to hail a cab when I hear Frankie.

“Mandy! Come back. We’re going to do a toast.”

I head back to the table.

“What are we toasting to?” A fresh sidecar sits at my place. “Did I order this?”

“The guys bought a round,” Frankie says.

“Oh? That’s kind of you. Thank you. But still…what are we toasting?”

“I got a promotion,” Morgan says.

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m a financial adviser.”

Gigi holds up her glass. “To Morgan’s new promotion!”

We clink glasses. Did we talk about careers? It was all just a din of conversation to me. Poor Michael. What the heck does he see in me anyway?

“I’d love a dance.” Morgan rises and leads Gigi out to the dance floor, leaving just Frankie, Ryan, and me at the table.

Ryan quickly asks Frankie for a dance, so here I am.

Alone with my sidecar. I take a sip. It’s too sour. The bartender forgot to put the rim of sugar on it.

It’s okay. I feel kind of sour.


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