Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
So this is the place on Central Park South that I come to today.
To work out.
Have dinner.
Get my thoughts together over Natalie and Drake.
Fuck, to just get the fuck over Natalie.
I mean, I'm Sloane fucking Hardman. I don't fucking get broken up over women. I don't pine away. I don't have a broken fucking heart.
That's not who I am. That's not what I fucking do.
I fuck women. I make them cum. I give them the best fucking sex they've ever had in their lives. I change their world. I shoot them into orbit and take them to paradise. And when their feet finally touch the fucking ground, I'm gone. I've moved on to the next girl.
So then what the fuck am I doing here, all by myself? Retreating into the NYAC?
You think I got the answer to that, don't you? That I'm going to have some deep explanation of what's going on that'll fucking put everything into perspective, won't it?
Sorry darlin'. Life doesn't work like that. You can't break it into chapters to read in your spare time.
Instead, the most I can tell you is that I'm sitting here, enjoying my steak. It feels good to cut the meat with my knife. I just want to cut something. Destroy it.
I've been drinking my scotch like there's no fucking tomorrow.
Why am I so frustrated?
It makes no fucking sense.
"You're acting like an animal," a voice says from beyond my vision. I should probably explain that even if I'm sitting here in the dining room, my head's been bowed and I've been looking at my plate. My entire vision has been this New York Strip and the creamed spinach I had with the Macallan 12-year single malt to the side.
That's all I was staring at as I was cutting the meat to eat.
Now I stare up.
And fuck.
She's sitting right there.
Tight, shimmering, glittering silver dress. Natalie Vanderhill. That dress may not be translucent, but fuck, it leaves almost nothing to the imagination by being so tight.
I see those delicate, round, pert, juicy tits showcased right in front of my eyes.
Her hair is done up.
Her wide set eyes are looking at me.
"What's wrong with you?" she asks me again.
"I needed to get away," I tell her. "Be by myself."
"I need to know what's going on with you, Sloane," Natalie says to me. "You're acting crazy."
"Crazy?" I say, gripping my knife. "It's crazy the way I'm acting?"
"You can't go down to people's offices and tell them to stay away from me!" she says with anger lilting her voice.
I pause.
"So you fucking heard about that," I say quietly.
She nods. "Drake told me afterward when I went to visit him," she tells me, looking down. "Told me to stay away from you."
"You're fucking him, aren't you?" I ask, putting my knife and fork down. "Tell me the truth."
This time real anger flashes through her eyes.
"What do you care?" she asks. "What does it matter what I'm doing?"
"He's your stepdad," I snarl out loud. I look around, making sure no one hears me.
"I know," she says, and smiles. Fuck. That's when my cock literally comes to life. Because she's smiling with one of the most lascivious and sinful smiles that any human has ever given me. "It's so fucking hot, knowing he's my Daddy."
My cock has a heartbeat, even though I want to stab Drake.
"But who I fuck isn't your business, brother," she tells me leaning over. "Just like I told Drake it wasn't his business who I see."
"He didn't want you to come talk to me?" I ask, taking comfort in the small victory that she's defying him.
She shakes her head. "But I had to see you," she says softly looking down. I stay silent as her eyes come up to meet mine. "I had to find out why you stormed into Drake's office. Is it about my company?"
I wanna fucking laugh. Natalie's line of sex toys are revolutionary, but I'm not going to go tangle with Drake Carlton over an investment decision.
But I will fucking get in his face about something more important. About Natalie.
"Sloane," Natalie says to me one more time. "Why did you go get in an argument with Drake this morning?"
I look up at her.
How am I supposed to tell this woman that the only reason I went down to Drake's office on Wall Street was because I fucking hated the fact that she was fucking that man. That every fiber of my body wants her in my arms.
"Because you shouldn't be with Drake Carlton," I say to her instead. She draws in a sharp breath but I quickly add. "You should be with me."
Boom.
Now there's silence. She has nothing to say and I can tell by her eyes that she's not surprised.
She knew from the moment she met me that there was something between the two of us. When Linda and her joined our family, I knew the way we talked to each other, and the way we looked at one another, that we were hungering for each other's bodies.