Cold Hearted Casanova (Cruel Castaways #3) Read Online L.J. Shen

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Cruel Castaways Series by L.J. Shen
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
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“You really want to get naked, don’t you?”

He put his hand on his chest. “Nudity is my passion.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “Take off your bloody clothes already.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“I literally wasn’t askin—oh.”

He tugged off his shirt and was now standing shirtless in front of me. I’d seen him shirtless before, but not this close. He was naturally smooth and cut sharper than cheddar cheese. And lickable. So incredibly lickable.

I swallowed audibly.

“Now off go the pants.” He hooked a thumb into the edge of his Dickies. “You may wanna clutch your pearls.”

With one go, he took off his trousers, standing in front of me in a pair of briefs only.

This sight is surely more pleasurable than watching your firstborn making their first steps.

“You purchased a new pair.” I was openly staring at his willy now. And we both wanted it to be free. I’d never achieved this kind of intimacy with BJ.

Which is a good thing. BJ is a sane, reserved man. Not the lust child of Johnny Knoxville and Tarzan.

“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic.” Riggs chuckled, and as he did, each individual muscle in his six-pack flexed. “Ready for the money shot?”

I couldn’t breathe and speak at the same time, so I simply nodded. He slid his briefs down inch by inch, until his cock bounced out, bobbing up and down. He was hard. So hard. And beautiful. So beautiful. And I was screwed. So . . . well, you know the rest.

It was the first time I’d found a cock to be aesthetically pleasing. Normally, they looked like inside-out socks. Riggs had a long, thick ridge, a prominent vein, and a perfect crown. He had the Rolls-Royce of knobs. Twelve out of ten. Inches, probably.

“You can pet him if you want,” Riggs cooed, holding himself by the root.

But again, I couldn’t find my voice to offer him a snarky reply. We just stood there, me staring at his member, him staring at my face.

“That thing should not be petted. It should be put on a leash,” I finally managed.

“Now you’re just threatening me with a good time. Better?” he asked on a smirk, his voice raspy and thick. My eyes traveled up, meeting his. Purple on blue. I’d never had a one-night stand before. Not even a half-night stand. I’d only been with three men, one of them BJ. This was the first time I had genuinely contemplated such a thing.

“Ah . . .” My throat tingled. “I think so.”

“You’re looking me in the eye,” he observed huskily, eyes half-lidded. “Told you it’d work.”

Riggs’s eyes darkened, becoming stormy and full of intent. So this was what smoldering meant. I’d always wondered while bumping into the bloody word. My body tipped forward despite my best efforts, seeking his touch.

Don’t do it. Remember the house rules. No pets. No hookups. No fraternizing with your spouse.

He dipped his head, closing the distance between us. He was so close I could see the individual stubble on his jaw. His magnificent, nibble-worthy jaw. His lips nearly brushed mine. His breath—of beer and cinnamon and pine—tickled at the column of my neck. A kiss from him was going to annihilate every past smooch I’d ever experienced. Still, I couldn’t stop what was about to happen, even if I wanted to. My body felt boneless as I melted against his broad chest and burrowed into his warmth, his steady heartbeat, his drugging scent.

Show me what I’ve been missing all this time I’ve been busy being a presentable, serious, marriage-worthy woman.

“And now . . . ,” Riggs announced suddenly, ripping himself back from me at the speed of light. “I’m hopping in the shower to flog the log.”

For the first time, he looked flushed and disoriented, not his usual playboy self.

Where was the snog his body had promised me?

I stumbled backward, bumping against my door. I put my hand on my cheek. It was hot enough to fry an egg on. “Is that code for . . . masturbation?”

“Yes, Poppins. Yes, it is. See now?” Riggs tromped around the flat and grabbed his towel from the settee. “That wasn’t so har—fuckkkkk.” His toe smashed into the leg of the settee. I let out a surprised giggle. He was one of the most elegant creatures to grace the earth. Was he actually affected by this? By me?

The thought made me flush with pleasure. I couldn’t wipe the foot-long grin off my face.

“Everything all right?” I purred.

“Peachy.” He slapped the towel over his shoulder, marching to the bathroom. Nestled between his thighs was the barrel of a tank. “Never been better.”

I kept gawking at the spot where he’d been long after he’d closed the bathroom door.

One thing was for sure: I found my fiancé tragically attractive.

There was only one thing to do: avoid him as best I could and hope it’d all go away.


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