Sweetheart – The Morgans of New York Read Online Deborah Bladon

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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“You live in Santa Fe?” Her voice comes out quiet and laced with something. I immediately recognize it as surprise.

After placing my jacket over the back of a chair, I loosen the tie around my neck. “I have for about three months now.”

“Oh,” she whispers. “I didn’t know.”

There is no way she could have. I’ve wandered the world since I left Manhattan. Every place I landed could have been home for me, but something was always missing. The only reason I’ve lasted as long as I have in Santa Fe is that I have some loose ends that I need to wrap up there. I plan on doing that as soon as I can get down there for a few days.

I scrub a hand over my forehead. “Your friend seems nice.”

She nods. “Arietta? She’s great. We were roommates until she moved in with her fiancé.”

“You gave up living in Keats’s place for one of your own?” I question her since she used to crash on the top floor of her brother’s brownstone whenever she wasn’t traveling the world interviewing people for her ghostwriting gigs.

“He’s married now,” she tells me. “He has a son too. I rent the apartment that his wife owns.”

That fills in some blanks for me.

“I’ve been working on something here in New York for the past few months,” she explains. “I was in Scotland, too, early last year. I didn’t try any crème brûlée there.”

Not wanting to admit that I’ve closely followed her career via her socials, I glance over her shoulder toward the windows that reveal the darkened sky beyond. “Did you like Scotland?”

I happen to know she fucking loved it. The joy on her face in the multitude of selfies she took while she was there gave it all away.

“I did,” she affirms with a half-smile. “I was working on a project while I was there, but I had some downtime, so I got to do a lot of exploring.”

She got to do a lot more than explore the country. A guy was next to her in a few photos she took while there. Unfortunately, she didn’t tag him in any of them, so I couldn’t obsess over who he was more than I already had.

I assumed that ended when she tied that project up because he hasn’t shown up in any pictures since.

“I should take Dudley for a walk.” She points to where her shoes are. “You didn’t trip over those today.”

A chuckle flows out of me. “I know you’re tricks, Sin. The shoe trap will never get me again.”

“The shoe trap?” She finally laughs, and fuck, that sound is exactly as I remember it. “Is that what you call it?”

I point at my left elbow, even though it’s hidden beneath my shirt sleeve. “That’s what it is. I have the scar to prove it.”

Her gaze never leaves mine as she steps closer to me. “We both have scars from before you…”

Her words trail into the silence sitting between us.

“We do,” I whisper too softly for her to hear me.

She glances to the left at the sound of her dog approaching from the hallway. “There you are, Duds. Are you ready for another tour of the neighborhood?”

I step aside and let her pass on her way to the door.

The scent of her perfume hits me. It’s the same fragrance she’s worn for years. It’s familiar, sweet, and smells like home to me.

I keep my back to her as I wage war with my emotions.

“I didn’t say it before, but Arietta wanted me to thank you for the dessert, Jameson,” she says softly.

I nod in response before I hear the door open and then shut behind me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Sinclair

“Arietta was right,” I mumble when I almost run into Jameson’s bare chest.

This wasn’t how I expected to start my day.

I know I should look up, but holy hell, the man is sporting something huge in his boxer briefs.

I’ve heard of the phrase morning wood before, but this is my first time witnessing it in the flesh. Technically, the very thick and long flesh is hidden under his black boxers, but the outline gives everything away.

Jameson Sheppard is packing a lot.

This is not just big dick energy. This is big dick reality.

“Arietta was right about what?” Jameson asks in a gravelly voice that wakes up my nipples.

I tug on the front of the T-shirt I’m wearing.

Thank goodness it’s long enough to cover my silk panties.

I would never have left my bedroom if I had known that Jameson was still in the penthouse. Since it’s past eight, I thought he’d be at Carden’s offices by now.

“Nothing,” I mumble.

“Are you all right, Sin?”

I don’t correct him about my nickname this time because his voice is so delicious at this moment. I kind of really want him to keep talking.

“I’m fine,” I snap back, finally trailing my gaze over his tight abs and muscular chest. When I reach his drop-dead gorgeous face, my nipples literally ache.


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