Only One Touch (Only One #4) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Only One Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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Becca looks at me and tilts her head to the side. “Depends on what you’re thinking.” I can even see the little smile she tries to hide.

“Whatever you want.” Game on. She stands and closes her laptop.

“I’m thinking pizza,” she says, “in Italy.”

I look at my watch and do the calculations in my head. “If we leave now, we can get there for lunch.” She turns, and we say goodbye to everyone, and I walk out with her.

“So where are we going?” she asks, standing beside her SUV. I want to wrap my hand around her waist and pull her to me. Lean down and kiss her lips. Fuck, this is not good.

“Why don’t I follow you to your house? You can drop off your car, and then we can decide,” I say, opening her door for her without giving her a chance to think about anything. She gets in, but I can see her mind spinning. “Relax, Becca.”

“I’m usually the one in charge,” she says.

I lean in with one hand on the door and the other hand on top of the SUV. “When it’s you and me, I’m the one in charge,” I say, and I see her eyes go a deeper green. I could easily lean in just a touch more and find out what she tastes like, but instead, I step back and close the door.

I walk to my SUV and make plans while I follow her back to her place. She hands her keys to the doorman and walks over to my SUV. I get out and open the door for her. “Thank you,” she says, getting in the SUV. I get in and look over at her as she puts her seat belt on.

“It’s killing you, isn’t it?” I ask, and she rolls her lips and nods her head.

“You have no idea,” she says and turns to me. “Are you going to give me a hint?”

“Okay,” I say, pulling away from her building. “Originally, I was going to fly us to New York.” She gasps in shock.

“I was kidding about having pizza in Italy,” she says. “Okay, fine, I wasn’t but New York?”

“Yeah, if it was earlier, we could have done it, but it’s almost seven, so we wouldn’t get there until ten, which is eleven with the time change.”

“You’re serious?” She turns and puts her back to the door. “You were going to take me to New York at the drop of a hat.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I figured I owed you a lot more than that.” I look over at her, and I wonder if I kiss the shit out of her would her lips still shine like they do now. Putting the SUV in the park, I look over at her. “Until I can do more, this will have to do,” I say, reaching for the door and opening it. I walk around the SUV, seeing her leg come out. Her red bottom shoes suddenly make me think of sex. It’s all fucking Lizzie’s fault. She stands and turns to shut the door. I can’t even tell if she’s wearing underwear under those white pants.

“Where are we?” she asks, looking around.

“This might not be Italy,” I say, grabbing her hand. Our fingers intertwine with ease. Neither of us says anything else as we look down at our hands locked together.

The restaurant lights shine, and I look around and don’t see any empty tables outside for us to eat at. I open the door to the restaurant with my free hand and hold it open for her to walk through with me following. Her hand remains in mine like neither of us wants to let go.

“For two, please,” she tells the hostess, who looks at me and then back at her. We follow the hostess through the crowded restaurant to a table in front of the big red wood-burning oven.

Slipping my hand out of hers, I pull out a chair for her. She sets her purse in the chair next to hers before she sits down. I shrug out of my jacket, and I see her looking over at me. “It’s casual day,” I say, tossing my jacket on the chair beside me. Instead of sitting in front of her, I decided to sit beside her.

“I’ve never seen you in anything but a suit,” she says to me as the waitress comes over and hands us the menus. Becca smiles at the waitress and orders herself a white wine and looks over at me.

“A bottle of San Pellegrino,” I say, and she nods, walking away. “I’ve never seen you dressed casually.”

She looks up from the menu. “Hello.” She points at herself. “This is casual.”

“You’re wearing heels,” I point out.

“I was watching Jaxon all day long,” she says, and I look at her, shocked. “Manning needed someone to watch Jaxon while he ran all his errands.”


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