Crushing on the Billionaire Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love, Novella Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
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“Sir.” Christopher approaches me, the leader of my security team, as hard-faced as usual, a constant scowl on his lips as if he’s always ready for a fight. His bald head adds to the tough demeanor. “We should get moving.”

“Why?” I say, never taking my gaze off the woman.

There’s no doubt in my mind. There’s no room for doubt.

All of it, all the money, all the grinding, all the sleepless nights, all the success… I never knew what it was for. I’ve spent my whole life not being sure, and now I am. My reason is sitting in the café looking at me uncertainly.

I smirk when she raises her hand and offers me a nervous wave. Christopher sighs, glancing up and down the street. “The threats, sir,” Christopher says.

“I don’t care about that.”

“You should, sir,” Christopher goes on. “The Russian mob is no joke. You should be concerned if they’ve got a problem with the witness protection stuff.”

We’ve been over this before. I’ve got a contract with the US government, shoring up their systems so the Russian mob can’t track down witnesses who have fled into protection. Lately, the threats have become worse, always anonymous letters or emails explaining in detail what they’d like to do to me.

“Wait here.”

“Sir—”

“Wait here, Christopher.”

I walk into the café. I’m not a celebrity in the traditional sense, but a few people glance as if they recognize me from somewhere, but they’re not sure where.

It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is my woman. I feel like roaring, My woman! She turns in her chair as I approach. Without the window and the counter separating us, I’m free to feast on my desire for her body.

She’s curvy in the best sense, her hips wide in her black hoodie, her legs thick and delicious as fuck in her black jeans. She’s got the sort of body that could—no, does—hypnotize a man.

I’m hungry in a flash, starving, ready to tear off her jeans and bite softly onto her thighs just to feel her voluptuousness. Kiss higher until her soaked, young sweet pussy was creaming for me and…

I’ve got to stop. I’m already rock hard, but I could explode if I carry on.

“Hello,” I say.

She smooths her hand over her hair, her beautiful ringlets bouncing right back into place when she’s done. “Uh, hi.”

“I saw you staring,” I say with another smirk. “Honestly, I felt like a piece of meat from the way you were undressing me with your eyes. Do you usually objectify men?”

I’d sacrifice every cent I’ve ever heard to feel her eyes on me like this for the rest of our lives.

“You’re Luke Hart,” she says, then lowers her eyes. “Obviously, you know that, but I know you. I’m a huge fan of… your company.”

She pauses, and I wonder if she is going to say something else. Maybe she is going to tell me she’s experiencing it, too. Her world is changing shape. She doesn’t care about anything except for us.

“Thanks,” I say, nodding to her laptop. “Are you a programmer?”

She raises her eyes nervously as though she’s ready to turn away at any second. I’d love to find whatever prick convinced this woman she had to be shy and hurt them badly. When she’s my wife, she’ll never have to doubt herself.

“I’m trying to be. There’s a simple magic to it, isn’t there? You just put your headphones on, focus on the work, and suddenly the world makes sense.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“You did put it like that. I’m quoting you.”

I chuckle. It’s not forced like it often is in business meetings.

Outside, Christopher is glaring at me, but I don’t give a damn. I’d go ten rounds with any mob goon to spend another minute with her.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Jane,” she replies.

“Are you going somewhere?”

There’s a duffle bag on the floor between the legs of her chair.

“Um… sort of.”

“Tell me,” I say firmly.

I spoke loudly and fiercely, but that’s because of the anxiety in Jane’s voice. She flinches. Several people turn to look at me.

“You don’t need to hear—”

I step forward so that I’m looming over her.

“Tell. Me.”

Goddamn, she’s turning me into a beast. At this height, I could reach down and gently take her head, guide my dick to her mouth, push between her lips as she stares up, taking it inch by inch until she moans, her hand slipping between her legs, rubbing at her sopping slit as she…

Focus. Nobody has ever done this to me before.

In a quiet voice, she explains the situation. With each passing sentence, more and more rage fills me up.

“Honestly, if I had a place to go, I’d be happy about it,” she finishes. “I hate living there.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’ve got work tomorrow morning. Well, if they give me hours.”

“If?”

“It’s a case of showing up and waiting to see if they’ll put me on the schedule for the day.”


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