Cherry Popper Read online Victoria Quinn (Cherry #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Series by Victoria Quinn
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
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Even I could only eat half. “Hungry?”

“I skipped lunch today.”

Monroe was different from the other women who approached me. I’d noticed it the second I laid eyes on her, when she stepped into my office despite the promise of death written on my face. She blasted through my secretaries like they were no hindrance at all. Then she basically asked me to take her virginity right in the middle of my office, while making it clear she despised herself for doing it.

Now that I knew about her debt, it all made sense.

She really didn’t have a choice.

As we sat across from each other at dinner, it was clear she thought very little of me. She wasn’t impressed by my money, even though she had none, and while she was attracted to my looks, she certainly wasn’t attracted to anything that popped out of my mouth. She was very innocent, not just because of her purity, but because of her outlook on life. After having no real experience with men, she thought there were good guys out there.

No such thing.

All men wanted to be pigs. All men wanted to be rich, powerful, and fuck an endless line of beautiful women. But that was a fantasy they could never achieve, so they settled for what they could get—one woman who would tolerate them. She mistakenly referred to men like that as Prince Charming.

The poor girl had a lot to learn about the real world.

She signed her name on a bill she could never repay, just for the slight chance her mother might survive. No one else would have done that because they had more sensibility. She was too optimistic.

And that was why she was in this situation in the first place.

I held my glass as I stared at her, watched the lipstick marks stick to her glass in several places. She had deep brown hair, fair skin the color of snow, and lips so red they resembled blood. The occasional freckle on her cheek contrasted against her pure skin, the only seeming imperfection on a beautiful face. With that stunning frame and even more stunning looks, she could have led a much different life. All she needed was to use that confidence to her advantage, and she could have paved the streets in gold. She could have pursued modeling or acting. She could have easily been a top-billed porn star. Instead, she focused on the books like a nerd for an office job.

What a shame.

Dinners like these were used to gauge my interest in the woman. I didn’t just fuck anyone. I needed to feel chemistry, to feel some sort of passion. I got so many offers that I rejected most of them. So women were always on their best behavior, saying what I wanted to hear in the hope they would be chosen.

Monroe acted like she didn’t want to be chosen at all.

The best way for me to determine my attraction was by the tightness in my jeans. If I felt myself go hard during the meal because of the way she drank from her glass or licked her lips, I knew she was a suitable lay.

And Monroe kept me hard through almost the entire dinner.

When she pulled her hair over one shoulder and revealed her stunning neck, I saw the same breathtaking skin, the softness my lips wanted to caress. She had a graceful neck, slender and long. Her black dress revealed a bit of her collarbone, and that was nice too. I wanted to give it a slight nibble as I kissed her.

She was taller than the average woman, which was something else I liked. Most women were barely over five feet, but this woman had to be at least five six. She wasn’t close to my height, but at least she was compatible. Women always assumed tall men wanted short women. Not me.

Her tits were my favorite feature. She was busty for her size, fuller in her chest than she should be. For a woman with a tiny waist and a low body weight, her boobs were unnaturally big. Since she was broke, I knew they were real.

I’d never cared for fake tits.

My cock thickened a little more in my jeans when I imagined her underneath me, her tight pussy fighting my intrusion. Once I got my length inside, I would take it easy on her for the first minute, give her a chance to get used to it. Then I would fuck her harder, break her in, and enjoy her cunt to the fullest. It always turned me on when they cried underneath me, and I hoped she did the same, but I suspected she was too proud to do that.

“What?” She returned her glass to the table and licked her lips.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. But you’re staring at me.”


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