No Romeo (My Kind of Hero #1) Read Online Donna Alam

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors: Series: My Kind of Hero Series by Donna Alam
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Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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“I wondered if you’d dressed before or after.”

“I found out? What does it matter?”

“It matters if you dressed for him. Or not.”

“And if I was already dressed when I read those texts?”

I tighten my fingers on her arse, and her exhale feels like liquid fire through my veins. “It would mean you dressed for him, and I’d have to insist you take it off. All of it.”

Her smile is infectious, her words laughingly expelled. “That is where this is going.”

“Eventually. You’re far too lovely to rush.”

Chapter 6

EVIE

“Tell me, Eve.” His demanding lips trail my neck, licking and sucking, teeth tantalizing. Pleasure pulses through me as I arch against him, luxuriating in the thickness apparent through my dress.

“I dressed to spite him.”

“Are you fucking me to spite him too?”

I take his face in my hands to make certain there can be no mistake. “I’ve never wanted someone so much that I physically ache. Happy now?”

Oliver’s blue eyes burn like twin flames, his arm slipping around my waist to deposit my butt onto the dining table. His palms press either side of my hips, and his deeply masculine purr curls around my ear. “Deliriously.”

“So the underwear?” My voice turns smoky at the rasping brush of his dark bristles, twisting the question from casual.

“It stays. For now.”

“Dammit.” My smile is almost audible. “Isn’t it better to be under- than overdressed in this situation?”

His response is a low rumbling laugh. God, he smells so good, like dark spice and whisky and so unforgivingly male. My fingers shake as I reach for his tie and begin to undo the knot. He doesn’t object and, if what I felt against me moments ago is any indication, he’s as ready for this as I am.

“Though I must admit, I can’t wait to see what a thousand dollars can buy.”

“Not a lot as it happens.” Can he hear the tremble in my voice? Feel it in my fingers as I struggle to coordinate them. “Fabric-wise, anyway.”

Schlick. The sound of his tie sliding free from his collar drowns out my tiny, desperate breaths.

“Don’t stop there.” His voice is velvet and smoke as he catches my hands, pressing them to his chest. “Do the buttons next.”

My insides turn molten at his direction, and I begin with the top of that line of tiny hindrances. His breath brushes my lips, and cool air slides around my ankles as he begins to gather my dress up my legs. The lower I move with the buttons, the more my legs are exposed, until his pristine white shirt hangs open and the hem of my dress is laid across my waist.

“Nice.” I press my fingers to his chest. Taut pectorals. A smattering of dark hair. I gasp, my hand falling away as he grasps the back of my knee, spreading me wide.

“Fuck.” His utterance is like a prayer of thanks as he stares at the triangle of gauzy lace. All that’s left between me and immodesty.

I want to run my hands over his body, follow that downy trail from his navel like it’s a ribbon wrapped around a gift. But Oliver seems content to torment us both as his thumb sweeps over the skin bared above my stocking top.

“Worth every penny.” His eyes lift to meet mine.

“I’m pleased you think so.” My voice sounds shaky. I feel touch starved. I ache for contact.

“Lovely Eve, the things I am going to do to you.” The sensation is almost electric as his thumb slips under the garter. “The things you’re going to scream.”

“Oh, good. I was worried you were polling for suggestions.”

“Do I look like I lack imagination?”

I gasp as the garter snaps, his free hand snaking into my hair. It should feel painful, not like a dark kind of pleasure.

“Because I don’t.” He angles my head to his liking, his tongue swiping my bottom lip.

“Good . . . good to know,” I almost moan.

“Better to experience.”

Holy heck, his mouth is clever, his lips soft yet commanding as he holds me in place. As he sucks and bites, studying my reactions, watching my breath. I whimper as his mouth slides down my neck, my insides pulsing like I’m about to come on the spot.

“Oh, God.”

“You like that,” he asserts, shaping the words to my skin.

“If you have to ask . . .” Then you didn’t hear my ovaries explode.

I tighten my thighs on his hips, pulling him closer, welcoming his tug at my scalp. My hands rove, pulling at his shirt, my nails digging into his skin.

“Will you wriggle this much when I suck on your clit? Should I pin you down while I lick it?”

His words burst inside me, and I bite against a reply of yes.

“While I make it shiny and pink.”

“You can try,” I counter, not sure where the words come from.

“A challenge?” His mouth returns to mine, and struck by a sudden impulse, I suck on his tongue. The husky sound he makes sends a thrill through my bones. I roll my hips, rewarded by a grind of his, the thick press of him sending a wave of pleasure through my insides.


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