Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I picked up the ruby studs from my personal jeweler yesterday morning—before Skye came storming into my office. Donald Rogers has been finding gems for me for years, and he never lets me down. These rubies are bright red and almost completely clear. They’re only four millimeters in diameter set in white gold.
They’re perfect for Skye—understated and elegant. She wouldn’t like anything ostentatious, and neither would I. We’re both pretty simple people at heart.
I walk quietly out of my bedroom and up to Skye’s room. The door is closed, but it’s not locked. I know it’s not locked because I didn’t put a lock on it. If she requests one, I’ll have one installed.
But she’s going to have to ask for it.
I open the door to her room slowly so as not to wake her. She’s sleeping soundly, one bare leg outside the covers. Her shoulders are also bare.
She’s naked.
I grin.
If she’d looked in the chest of drawers or in the closet, she’d have found several nighties and a pair of silk pajamas. But naked is good too.
I gather all my willpower not to wake her and fuck her silly.
I do have an early meeting, after all.
But damn…
Her glossy hair is fanned out on the red silk pillowcase, and her lips—those amazing lips—are parted just so.
I move closer, ready to kiss those lips, when—
She lets out a gentle snore.
I cover my mouth to keep from laughing.
Then I set the velvet box and note on the nightstand, walk to the door, and sneak out as quietly as I came. I have to shower and dress. Marilyn won’t be here until this evening, as I’ll be gone all day and I’ll get breakfast on the plane.
I can’t help but grin.
This may work out yet.
A car is waiting to take me back to the airport as soon as my meeting ends at noon. In the car, I look at the emails that have come in since early this morning. Between the flight and getting to the meeting on time, I haven’t had a chance to see what’s going on.
But first, I notice some voicemails. I smile as Skye’s voice comes through the line.
“Hi, Braden, it’s me. Thank you so much for the ruby earrings. I love them. In fact, I’m wearing them right now. They’re perfect. Call me. I love you.”
I wish I had time to call her, but I need to get through the rest of the voicemails and emails.
I click on the second voicemail.
“Braden, hey, it’s Tessa Logan.”
Skye’s best friend. My heart does a flop. Why is she calling? Is something wrong with Skye?
“I’m not sure I should be calling you, but I’m concerned. Skye has a dinner meeting tonight with a woman from Crystal’s Closet, where she got that bustier. Could you call me?”
Dinner meeting?
Skye is having dinner with me.
Crystal’s Closet? The bustier?
Wait…
I pull up Skye’s Instagram, which I haven’t looked at since yesterday.
Mostly posts for Susanne Cosmetics, a few personal posts, but then—
Skye.
My Skye.
Showing her tits to the world.
The bustier—the bustier that I cut off her gorgeous body.
Because I just bought it. I bought it to look sexy for you.
Did she? Or did she buy it to look sexy to everyone?
And damn, she does look sexy. So fucking sexy. My groin tightens, and I don’t know whether I’m angry or horny or a salacious mixture of both.
Check out my new purchase from @crystalsclosetboston. #sexybustier #crystalscloset #susannecherryrusset
For all the fucking free world to see.
Jealousy surges through me, and ice grips the back of my neck. She’s in Boston right now, and it’s three hours later there…
And I—
Shit. The comments glare at me.
Braden Black is a lucky man! Great rack!
You look fabulous!
Item number please! My boyfriend will love that.
Great rack? Someone is commenting on my woman’s rack? Granted, it is great, but it’s mine.
Comments go on and on, and some are pretty damned explicit.
And now…she’s meeting with someone from the lingerie shop, and I already know why.
They saw the post.
They want her to pose in a bustier on Instagram.
And that’s absolutely not happening.
I want to call Skye, tell her I love her. But first? I call Tessa. I need to find out the nitty-gritty of this Crystal’s Closet thing.
One, two, three rings, and—
“Hello?” Tessa says breathlessly.
“Tessa, it’s Braden.”
“Oh, good, you got my message. First of all, don’t worry. Skye is fine.”
“I know. You would have told me if she wasn’t.”
“Right. Anyway, she has a meeting with a woman named Heather Thomas for dinner tonight. Crystal’s Closet wants her to do a series of posts wearing the black leather bustier.”
I suck in a breath. Tessa most likely doesn’t know that that bustier now consists of leather strips.
“And you think I won’t like that,” I say to Tessa. “You’re right.”
“No. I mean, yeah, I’m sure you won’t like it, but that’s not why I called.”