Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“What do you like?” I ask.
He brings his glass to his lips, takes a sip. “This is Angel’s Envy. It’s aged in port-wine barrels, which gives it notes of fruit and spice. It’s one of my favorites. Would you like to try it?”
“Uh…sure.” I take the glass from him and take a sip.
And oh my God…
The liquor dances across my tongue. It’s that good. The oak from the barrel mingles with the slight sweetness of the port and the irresistible smoky caramel of the bourbon itself. I swallow, and it warms my throat without the least bit of harshness going down.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I think that may be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
Ginger lifts her eyebrows playfully. “You sure about that?”
Ginger is a classic beauty with dark hair and emerald-colored eyes. She’s also a world-class flirt, apparently. My cheeks burn at her suggestion.
Alex doesn’t seem fazed by Ginger’s innuendo. “If you like this, you have to try Pappy Van Winkle’s. It makes this taste like rotgut.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Want to bet? Come to the bar. I’ll show you.”
“Okay. Come on, Ginger.”
She smiles. “You two go ahead.” She finishes her champagne, grabs another from a server passing by with a tray of flutes, and leaves the table.
“Excuse me a minute,” I say to Alex.
He nods.
I catch up with Ginger and grab her arm. “Why are you leaving me alone with him?”
“Because three’s a crowd. Go for it, Sienna. He’s obviously into you.”
“We both like bourbon. That hardly makes us soulmates.”
“Who’s looking for a soulmate? For God’s sake, would you try to have fun? Forget about Link or Leon or whatever his name was.”
“Leroy. His name was Leroy.” And we were together for four years, engaged for two. The wedding was supposed to be two months from now.
“Whatever. He was an idiot to let you go, and now you’re on an island full of billionaires.”
“Four billionaires isn’t exactly an island full.”
“It’s more than you’ve seen in one place before, I bet. Let your hair down.”
“Maybe he’s not my type.”
“Gorgeous, wealthy, and well-endowed isn’t your type?”
My cheeks warm. “We don’t know if he’s well-endowed.”
“Are you kidding me? He radiates big dick energy. Dark and brooding and raw sexy. I’ll bet he’s fucking eight inches. You can let me know later.”
“Are you insane? I just met the man.” My belly flutters despite my words.
“You think he’s not gunning to get one of us in the sack? Why else are these men here? They want to get to know each one of us…and I’m sure that means in the biblical sense.”
“Evangeline said—”
“Yes, I know what Evangeline said. We’re not obligated to do anything physical with them. But no one’s going to buy a cow without sampling the milk first. Now get your firm little ass back there before Alex loses interest.” She gives me a soft shove and then walks away.
I draw in a breath and walk over to the bar where Alex waits with two lowball glasses.
He hands one to me, his green-gold gaze burning into me.
“Take a sip, Sienna,” he says, his voice a husky rasp. “And then tell me if Angel’s Envy is the best thing you’ve ever had in your mouth.”
I bring the glass to my lips—
Alex moves toward me, his breath hot against my earlobe. “And trust me. By the end of the evening, no bourbon will be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
EPISODE 4
A NOT-SO-PROPER ENGLISH ROSE
Sebastian
When I offer her a choice between an answer to her question and fucking her against the wall, she gulps. I actually see her throat move, but I believe in being honest when I’m attracted to a woman.
“I’m not one of your groupies, Sebastian,” she finally replies, her tone stiff.
God, I love the way she says my name in that polite voice of hers. Seb-ah-stian.
“Definitely not.” I tug on a lock of her ash-blond hair. “If you were a groupie, I’d be inside you by now.”
Her cheeks flush a gorgeous rose. A proper English rose. That’s what I thought when I read her bio. How I’d love to bring a proper English rose to her knees.
“This is a mixer, isn’t it?” she asks. “A way for us to get to know each other?”
“Is there any better way to get to know each other?” I slide a finger over her bare shoulder. Her skin is like the softest silk. She’s wearing a light-blue strapless number that makes her blue eyes look bright as the noon sky on a sunny day. Her breasts are pushed up, rosy and creamy, and her nipples—are they pink? Light brown?—are protruding against the clingy fabric.
My groin tightens.
Damn, I want to see those proper English tits, suck on those proper English nipples.
“My question…” she says on a sigh.
Right. Her question. She wants to know why River, Brett, Alex, and I hired a matchmaker to drag eight eligible women who might someday be our wives to a remote island for this unusual pre-coital meet-and-greet. It’s a valid inquiry, but I wasn’t yanking her chain when I said there was no easy answer.