Ethan (Billionaire’s Game #3) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire's Game Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
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Even so, not one second of it—even when it had gotten intense—made me want to rage. I hadn’t even balked under the scrutinizing gaze of Alexandra, intently watching me throughout every situation, her eyes calculating and cataloguing every little thing I did. I swear, in any other situation, I’d be extremely annoyed feeling like I was under the microscope, but the truth was, I liked her eyes on me.

Alexandra and I watched as Nora and Ella passed out prizes to every student, something they’d clearly planned regardless of the outcome of the game, and then after two more last dances, guardians started showing up in droves to pick up their kids.

After another thirty minutes, Nora and Ella went outside to say goodbye to the students and parents leaving the building, leaving Alexandra and me as the only two left in the gym, staring at the aftermath of what was shockingly a really fun party.

Most everyone got their trash in the bins, but some was scattered along the gym floor, along with fallen streamers and crushed cardboard decorations. The snack table was a mess, with at least half of the drinks ending up soaking the vinyl tablecloths, little bits of the liquid dripping on the floor.

Alexandra headed toward the stray pieces of trash on the floor, bending to scoop them up and carrying them to the bin.

“Shouldn’t the cleaning crew do that?” I asked.

She laughed, a wonderful, bright sound that had heat snaking through my veins.

“I am the cleaning crew,” she said. “Why do you think my friends always invite me to these things?” she asked, holding up the trash before tossing it in the bin. “Free help,” she continued. “Plus, getting to use their stomping grounds as a session is a double bonus.”

“How’d I do?” I asked, peeling off my jacket and laying it over an empty chair so I could help.

“You really don’t have to help,” she said, her eyes locked on where I unbuttoned the sleeves of my shirt, rolling them to the elbows.

“I want to help,” I said, gathering the rest of the trash and tossing it in the bin.

“And there is no grade scale on the sessions,” she explained as we fell into a peaceful rhythm. “This is a how I get to learn more about you.”

“Throwing me into unexpected scenarios?” I asked for clarification.

“Yep,” she said. “In most cases, people would be overwhelmed by being forced into a gym full of wild kids.”

I furrowed my brow. “What if it had? Wouldn’t the guardians of the kids be upset to know you’re using their dance as an experiment?”

“Ouch,” she said. “But fair. I cleared it with all of them before I invited you. No one objected. I’ve volunteered in their classes often enough, doing presentations and sessions on emotion regulation. They knew I would never put their kids in danger.”

“Jesus,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m not dangerous.”

She raised her eyebrows at me. “The fan you assaulted might say differently.”

My lips parted, her words stealing the breath from my lungs. She stepped closer to me, not a hint of judgment in her features. “Do you regret it?”

I swallowed hard. “Do I regret punching a bigot in the mouth for spewing his hatred at one of my players?” I tilted my head, honestly thinking about it. “No.” I shrugged.

Alexandra pursed her lips, nodding. “So you think the cause justifies the reaction?”

“I think I can’t take it back, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Would you take it back if you could?”

I replayed the scene in my mind, hearing the fan spit his bullshit at my player, and I curled my hands into fists on instinct. “Nope.”

“Not even if it lost you the Hurricanes?” she asked.

I shook out my hands, blowing out a long breath. “I’m going to hunt down a mop,” I said instead of answering.

Because I didn’t have one. Obviously, if I lost the Hurricanes, it would be a blow I wouldn’t know how to recover from. But I was here—with her—to ensure that didn’t happen.

I heard Alexandra telling Nora and Ella that she’d lock up the building for them, telling them to go enjoy the rest of their Friday night as I found a mop in a custodial closet down the hall. I returned quickly and mopped up the mess of the drinks so the floor wouldn’t be sticky. We fell into a silent but comfortable rhythm, cleaning alongside each other, and before I knew it, we were done.

“So the owner of the Hurricanes is not only awesome with kids, but stays calm under unexpected pressure. He can also clean like the best of them,” she said, her tone all tease. “What else can you do?”

Kiss you and leave you panting.

Fuck me, I couldn’t stop the memory from forming in my mind. Couldn’t stop my eyes from falling to her full lips.


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