Caribbean Crush Read Online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
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Without another thought, I’m up and out of my seat, launching myself at her. My arms go around her shoulders as I squeeze her. She makes a choking sound, but I don’t let up. I can’t. “Sienna, this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

When I pull back, she’s blushing scarlet red. “Well . . . I mean, yeah. No. It’s nothing. Just—”

She clears her throat and fixes her hair, clearly uncomfortable with my overt display of affection.

“Now, listen, sit down. God, just sit down, and I’ll walk you through a real proper tutorial on what you’ll need to do to get started, okay?”

“Okay, but one more hug.”

She tenses like she’s in agony. “Fine. One more.”

I squeeze her again, offering up a million and one thank-yous, and then I wipe tears from my eyes and reclaim my seat. “All right. Fire away. I’m listening.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

CASEY

I make it to Phillip’s room a little after midnight. Sienna and I spent the last few hours walking through my new Instagram account. I felt like a grandpa asking her the silliest questions. I was truly starting from square one: “And what if I want to put one of those filters on it?”

By the time I finally felt like I had a handle on everything, it was later than I thought, but I wanted to keep my promise to Phillip, so I’ve come down to his suite—and as soon as I knock, he whisks open the door and drags me inside. It’s like he was there, pacing frantically on the other side.

“Took you long enough,” I tease.

“Took you long enough,” he groans in mock annoyance.

“I’ve been really busy!”

He’s already starting to draw up my dress as he leans in to kiss me with a frenzied passion. Apparently, the first item on his agenda is getting his hands all over me, and who am I to protest? Within minutes, I’m naked and pressed right up against the door of his suite. The cool wood holds me up as Phillip thrusts into me, stealing a kiss as I cry out for him.

Before getting here, I swore to myself that I would make the most of our night. I wouldn’t bring up anything concerning our relationship or try to ruin our last few hours together. Phillip must have come to the same conclusion, or—as much as it hurts to consider—he’s really not all that torn up about it, because neither one of us tries to delve into our future.

After we have sex against the door, we scurry into the bathroom to take a shower. We’re so good about it, too, actually washing ourselves (go us!) and not getting distracted by each other. Okay, there is a moment when I just stare at him as he’s soaping his chest and abs, a little slack jawed. To distract myself, I bring him in on the new development: the insanely generous thing Sienna’s done for me. I’m bursting with excitement over it, and he’s just as pleased as I am.

“Casey, this is just the thing for you.”

“It really feels that way,” I say, happiness brimming over. “And it’s okay if it doesn’t take off right away and all that. Not everyone can be Sienna Thompson. I might just not have the same general appeal as she does, you know? But that’s okay because I’m not trying to be a duplicate of her. There’s room for all of us, and really, I think my feed will be different. I want to really guide people through travel, and what Sienna does is way different. She uses these exotic destinations as more of accessories to her glamorous lifestyle, if that makes sense. And it’s not a bad thing!” I hurry to amend. “I love it, I just think . . . my page would naturally be different than hers because, well, I’m different. I want to hone my voice and really create something unique.”

Phillip’s grinning at me. “I can tell how excited you are about it.”

I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. “You’d tell me if it was silly, wouldn’t you?”

There’s no one else in my life to ask, no one to redirect me if I’m making a huge mistake. He steps forward, cradles my face, and tells me with absolute conviction, “It’s genius, really. You’ll work hard and make it successful; I know it.”

I beam and lean in to kiss him, so relieved to have his approval.

Through the night, I barely manage a few hours of sleep. Phillip and I stay up late acting as if our sole mission in life is to try and memorize every curve and contour of each other’s bodies. After I do finally crash, I wake up a few hours later with a bone-crushing weariness. I look at the clock on the bedside table and realize with panic that it’s much later than I hoped. Morning is here. Our time together is officially drawing to a close, and though I try to press them down—no, no, no, I repeat to myself. Don’t be sad—silent tears start to fall. As I lie there with a breaking heart, I never wake Phillip; I’m careful to gather myself before he stirs. With great care, I tidy up my feelings and stow them away, just like I’ve done the last few days.


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