The Billionaire’s Secret Heart (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance) Read Online Free Page B
Book: The Billionaire’s Secret Heart (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance) Read Online Free
Author: Alexa Wilder, Ivy Layne
The wave of nausea brought everything back.
Stuart. The awful date. Meeting Holden. Going home with Holden. Oh my God, had I seriously gone home with a strange guy and slept with him? Three times? I didn't know whether to be ashamed or proud of myself. I'd never done anything like this in my entire life. I jumped out of the bed like a scalded cat and retreated to the other side of the room, staring at the body between the smooth, heavy sheets in a combination of fascination and horror.
In sleep, Holden looked even hotter than my blurry brain remembered. He lay on his stomach, arms and legs splayed, like a child. His body belonged to a man—honey gold skin stretched over defined shoulders and a well-muscled back. His feet stuck out beneath the sheets at the end of the bed, and even his toes were hot—as tan as the rest of his skin, with little golden hairs. He looked perfect.
Had I really slept with that man? I remembered the way he'd laid me out on the kitchen counter and fucked me until I'd come twice. The stretch of his cock pressing into my body was burned into my brain. I hadn't just slept with him. I'd fucked him three times, begging for it, screaming when I came. My cheeks burned at the memory.
What was I doing? Why was I still there? This was a one-night stand. I wasn't supposed to stay. I was supposed to sneak out and never see him again. At that thought, my stomach clenched and I felt like throwing up. But that was just the hangover, right? I didn't even know the guy. Other than his first name, I knew nothing about him. Well, his first name and that he was fabulous in bed. And sweet, I thought, remembering the way he'd held me in the tub and as we'd slept.
I shouldn't leave. It was rude to sneak out. Maybe he wanted me to stay. I was wavering until he shifted in the bed and rolled over. At the thought that he was waking up, that he might be about to open those dark eyes and look at me with disgust or disinterest, I crept out of the room as fast as I could. The night before had been amazing. Mind blowing. I couldn't stand the thought that he might look at me with regret . . . or worse, disappointment.
Moving as quickly as I could, I made my way back to the kitchen, where I discovered that Holden hadn't fucked me on the counter. It had been a huge, white, marble-topped island, and my dress was still puddled in the center, beside a wooden bowl of fresh fruit.
Still life with abandoned dress .
I shuddered and grabbed it, yanking it over my head as soon as I had my bra snapped. At least I'd dropped all my clothes in the same place. Slipping my sore feet into Emily's torture chamber shoes, I located my purse on its side, half the contents spilled out onto the floor. Hastily, I shoved everything back in and snuck out the door, praying the elevator didn't need a handprint to let me out. It didn't.
I slung my purse over my shoulder and walked into the lobby, my head held high, shoulders back. This was my very first walk of shame, but I wasn't going to actually be ashamed.
I wasn't .
Okay, so I'd slept with a guy I didn't know. Not my best move. But there was nothing wrong with it. People did it all the time. It was over, and no one had to know.
I headed out of the building, ignoring the enticing scent of coffee filling the first level. I didn't dare linger at the scene of the crime. Not that I thought Holden was coming after me. When he woke up, he'd probably be relieved I was gone.
Chapter Four
Holden
I rolled over and stretched my arm across the bed, reaching for something. When my fingers encountered only cool, smooth sheets, my eyes opened, and I stared at the ceiling, waiting for my brain to come back online.
What had I been reaching for? Rolling over, I caught sight of the indented pillow, smelled sex in my bed, and remembered. Josephine. I was reaching for Josephine.
I had no idea what time it was. My phone hadn't made it to the nightstand, and I didn't have a clock in the bedroom.
I didn't have to
Stuart. The awful date. Meeting Holden. Going home with Holden. Oh my God, had I seriously gone home with a strange guy and slept with him? Three times? I didn't know whether to be ashamed or proud of myself. I'd never done anything like this in my entire life. I jumped out of the bed like a scalded cat and retreated to the other side of the room, staring at the body between the smooth, heavy sheets in a combination of fascination and horror.
In sleep, Holden looked even hotter than my blurry brain remembered. He lay on his stomach, arms and legs splayed, like a child. His body belonged to a man—honey gold skin stretched over defined shoulders and a well-muscled back. His feet stuck out beneath the sheets at the end of the bed, and even his toes were hot—as tan as the rest of his skin, with little golden hairs. He looked perfect.
Had I really slept with that man? I remembered the way he'd laid me out on the kitchen counter and fucked me until I'd come twice. The stretch of his cock pressing into my body was burned into my brain. I hadn't just slept with him. I'd fucked him three times, begging for it, screaming when I came. My cheeks burned at the memory.
What was I doing? Why was I still there? This was a one-night stand. I wasn't supposed to stay. I was supposed to sneak out and never see him again. At that thought, my stomach clenched and I felt like throwing up. But that was just the hangover, right? I didn't even know the guy. Other than his first name, I knew nothing about him. Well, his first name and that he was fabulous in bed. And sweet, I thought, remembering the way he'd held me in the tub and as we'd slept.
I shouldn't leave. It was rude to sneak out. Maybe he wanted me to stay. I was wavering until he shifted in the bed and rolled over. At the thought that he was waking up, that he might be about to open those dark eyes and look at me with disgust or disinterest, I crept out of the room as fast as I could. The night before had been amazing. Mind blowing. I couldn't stand the thought that he might look at me with regret . . . or worse, disappointment.
Moving as quickly as I could, I made my way back to the kitchen, where I discovered that Holden hadn't fucked me on the counter. It had been a huge, white, marble-topped island, and my dress was still puddled in the center, beside a wooden bowl of fresh fruit.
Still life with abandoned dress .
I shuddered and grabbed it, yanking it over my head as soon as I had my bra snapped. At least I'd dropped all my clothes in the same place. Slipping my sore feet into Emily's torture chamber shoes, I located my purse on its side, half the contents spilled out onto the floor. Hastily, I shoved everything back in and snuck out the door, praying the elevator didn't need a handprint to let me out. It didn't.
I slung my purse over my shoulder and walked into the lobby, my head held high, shoulders back. This was my very first walk of shame, but I wasn't going to actually be ashamed.
I wasn't .
Okay, so I'd slept with a guy I didn't know. Not my best move. But there was nothing wrong with it. People did it all the time. It was over, and no one had to know.
I headed out of the building, ignoring the enticing scent of coffee filling the first level. I didn't dare linger at the scene of the crime. Not that I thought Holden was coming after me. When he woke up, he'd probably be relieved I was gone.
Chapter Four
Holden
I rolled over and stretched my arm across the bed, reaching for something. When my fingers encountered only cool, smooth sheets, my eyes opened, and I stared at the ceiling, waiting for my brain to come back online.
What had I been reaching for? Rolling over, I caught sight of the indented pillow, smelled sex in my bed, and remembered. Josephine. I was reaching for Josephine.
I had no idea what time it was. My phone hadn't made it to the nightstand, and I didn't have a clock in the bedroom.
I didn't have to
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