The Boyfriend Read Online Abigail Barnette (The Boss #7)

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
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“Sometimes what?” El-Mudad asked when we entered. He’d been reclining with his Kindle in the cushioned nook in the wall. It was like a window seat minus the window, and I loved to curl up on the light blue velvet cushions when I had time to lounge around.

That had not been this trip.

He sat up in one smooth motion, unfolding his long legs and wincing as though they’d been asleep.

“Sophie is sometimes not in awe of me,” Neil said, clearly eager to move on from our bleak conversation. “I’m a bit insulted, really.”

We could discuss the Laurence problem at the other time. I didn’t want to spend our last moments together until the New Year bickering. “If you’d be more impressive, maybe I would be more awed.”

“Well, I’m in awe of you,” El-Mudad promised solemnly. He took Neil’s head in his hands and rose up on the balls of his bare feet to kiss Neil’s forehead. “And I’ll miss you.”

“We’ll all be together again on the fourth,” I reminded them. “I mean, unless someone forgets to send the plane for us...”

“We don’t need your plane.” El-Mudad stepped back from Neil and gave me a puzzled look. “We have mine.”

“Oh, that’s right.” It was really strange to think about that. “I’m perfectly happy to check out El-Mudad’s jet. It’ll be the second private plane I’ve been on.”

“Only the second?” El-Mudad looked horrified at the idea.

I bristled slightly. The fact that I hadn’t grown up mega-rich wasn’t new information, so it irked me when they seemed to forget it. “You know, apart from the jet my mom drove me to public school in every day.”

For his part, El-Mudad actually looked apologetic. “I promise you’ll get sick of private planes within the year.”

“That...is debatable,” Neil said, clearing his throat. “We may not be traveling for a while.”

“Oh?” El-Mudad’s eyebrows rose. “Is something wrong?”

I could fill him in later. “You know, with Olivia starting preschool and everything. And then, there’s my mom’s wedding.”

“And helping her find a house so she can get the hell out of ours,” Neil added, and when I gave him a warning glare, he revised, “Not that I don’t love having her.”

“Well, I’m just as happy staying home as I am in running all over the world,” El-Mudad said. “Besides, there are plenty of interesting things to do in New York. Neil, you belong to the Black Iris Club, don’t you?”

“I’ve never even heard of it.” Neil sounded taken aback at the idea of a club he hadn’t been invited to join.

“Oh, it’s fantastic. We’ll talk all about it when we get back. But for now...” He offered me his arm. “I believe my girlfriend and I have a trip to Venice. And you have your...sad male-bonding exercise.”

Neil took the ribbing in the good nature with which it had been intended. “Yes, I’ll shuffle off to the old man sanctuary to be with my sad old man fraternity. Truly, though, have a lovely time. And...don’t let anything happen to Sophie?”

“What’s going to happen to me?” I asked, offended, at the same time El-Mudad answered, “Of course, I won’t. Don’t be absurd.”

Neil held up his open hands defensively. “I’m protective! It’s in my nature.”

I hopped up on my toes to give him a peck on the lips. “It is. And I love you for it. Most of the time.”

He took one of my arms to guide it around his neck, and I eagerly lifted the other one as he lowered his mouth to mine for a proper goodbye that curled my toes. He gave El-Mudad a similarly passionate send-off, then we reluctantly left him behind.

The moment he was out of our sight, the weirdness of being alone with El-Mudad hit me. It wasn’t a feeling of discomfort or unfamiliarity but an ingrained belief that by being with someone who wasn’t my husband, I was doing something wrong. I supposed I would have to get over that. Neil wasn’t glued to my hip.

Thank god, because I really needed to be able to vent about our issue with Laurence.

When El-Mudad and I were safely in the backseat of one of the Maybachs, I turned to him and said, “We have a huge issue.”

“You and I?” he asked, with the expression of a game show contestant who just realized he couldn’t answer the million dollar question.

I shook my head and put my hand on his on the center console to reassure him. “No. Not me and you. Me and you and Neil and Laurence and probably Valerie, if it comes down to it.”

“Go on,” he urged.

“So, when we were downstairs saying goodbye to Olivia—“

“How did she take it, by the way?” El-Mudad broke in. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I was just concerned that seeing you again, then leaving with them, she might be unhappy.”

“She was,” I confirmed. “And that’s what started the whole mess. Laurence made some crack about how we’re apparently always abandoning her.”


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