Read Online Caught Up: With An Alpha Billionaire (A BWWM Romance) (A Love Like No Other Book 1) by Heather Banks - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Heather Banks
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the moment, I would take it.
“Yeah, you’ll do a good job,” he repeated, pushing on my hip with his free hand and turning me to face him. “Now, let me do a good job,” he said, huskily, and licked his lips, pushing my panties back down.
I had just put them back on, but who cared? I spread my legs as he sank down to kneel in front of me, grabbing my ass, pulling my crotch towards his mouth.
8. Closing Statements
The rest of the weekend passed slowly. I left Alex on Saturday morning and went home, deciding to go for a run before showering. My ankle was still sore, but I suffered through a few miles. Between my legs was even more sore, but that was a sweet, enjoyable kind of pain that I didn’t mind at all.
He hadn’t made any promises to call me, and I hadn’t pressed him. The less I expected from him, I figured, the better off I would be. His rejection from our first night together still stung a little, even though he’d apologized. I didn’t want to put myself through that again.
After my run, I worked on some more case documents until I couldn’t stand to look at my laptop any more. I kept fighting the urge to call Alex, and at one point I even picked up my phone.
Instead, I called Stan.
I asked him about one of his clients, a hip-hop star who thought he was invincible and tended to trash hotel rooms just because he could. Usually Stan managed to sweep the problems under the rug, but one pissed-off hotel chain had stood firm and brought vandalism and robbery charges against the guy.
“How’s the Saville case going?” I asked, after we’d discussed the weather and if either of us had heard from our deadbeat father.
“Eh, that guy’s a fucking loose cannon,” Stan retorted. “I ain’t got patience for his shit anymore,” he complained. “I may have to drop him.”
“But he’s rich,” I said. “And he guarantees you future employment,” I joked. “Plus, I keep asking you to introduce us. You know I like his albums.”
“Girl, it’s guys like Saville I’ve been working my whole life to keep you away from,” he shot at me. “I would rather cut off my big toe than see the two of you in a room together. He’d go to work on you faster than you can say ‘Kayne West is an egomaniac.’”
“Don’t start on Kanye,” I warned. “You know this is one place you and I will never agree.”
Stan chuckled. “Speaking of losers,” he said, “you’ve stayed away from that rich white asshole, right?”
I didn’t respond right away, and my silence spoke volumes.
“Dammit, Tiff! What did I tell you?” Stan practically hollered over the line.
“You don’t need to protect me, big bro. I know what I’m doing,” I yelled back.
“I beg to differ,” Stan said. “With men, you never know what you’re doing.”
“I resent that!” I protested. “You have no faith in me. I can handle myself. I have to go,” I said, kicking myself for calling him in the first place.
“Tiffany,” he started, but I interrupted him.
“Bye, Stan, keep Saville out of trouble, and stay out of my love life,” I said forcefully into the phone, and stabbed the “End Call” icon on the screen.
I sat on my couch, legs folded under me, still feeling a wonderful soreness between my legs.
The problem was, Stan was right. I didn’t really know what I was doing. But I’d just pretend that I did and hope for the best.
***
I resisted the urge to call, and I didn’t hear from Alex again before the deposition, scheduled for Tuesday morning. I was a little panicky by then. I kept telling myself over and over that I was okay if our relationship was just physical, that I could survive if Alex didn’t want any more than that.
I was trying to convince myself.
At 9:30, I headed to the same conference room where I had first met Alex, where the deposition was scheduled to be held at 10:00. I always liked to get to formal meetings early so I had time to collect myself and prepare.
At the meeting, I
“Yeah, you’ll do a good job,” he repeated, pushing on my hip with his free hand and turning me to face him. “Now, let me do a good job,” he said, huskily, and licked his lips, pushing my panties back down.
I had just put them back on, but who cared? I spread my legs as he sank down to kneel in front of me, grabbing my ass, pulling my crotch towards his mouth.
8. Closing Statements
The rest of the weekend passed slowly. I left Alex on Saturday morning and went home, deciding to go for a run before showering. My ankle was still sore, but I suffered through a few miles. Between my legs was even more sore, but that was a sweet, enjoyable kind of pain that I didn’t mind at all.
He hadn’t made any promises to call me, and I hadn’t pressed him. The less I expected from him, I figured, the better off I would be. His rejection from our first night together still stung a little, even though he’d apologized. I didn’t want to put myself through that again.
After my run, I worked on some more case documents until I couldn’t stand to look at my laptop any more. I kept fighting the urge to call Alex, and at one point I even picked up my phone.
Instead, I called Stan.
I asked him about one of his clients, a hip-hop star who thought he was invincible and tended to trash hotel rooms just because he could. Usually Stan managed to sweep the problems under the rug, but one pissed-off hotel chain had stood firm and brought vandalism and robbery charges against the guy.
“How’s the Saville case going?” I asked, after we’d discussed the weather and if either of us had heard from our deadbeat father.
“Eh, that guy’s a fucking loose cannon,” Stan retorted. “I ain’t got patience for his shit anymore,” he complained. “I may have to drop him.”
“But he’s rich,” I said. “And he guarantees you future employment,” I joked. “Plus, I keep asking you to introduce us. You know I like his albums.”
“Girl, it’s guys like Saville I’ve been working my whole life to keep you away from,” he shot at me. “I would rather cut off my big toe than see the two of you in a room together. He’d go to work on you faster than you can say ‘Kayne West is an egomaniac.’”
“Don’t start on Kanye,” I warned. “You know this is one place you and I will never agree.”
Stan chuckled. “Speaking of losers,” he said, “you’ve stayed away from that rich white asshole, right?”
I didn’t respond right away, and my silence spoke volumes.
“Dammit, Tiff! What did I tell you?” Stan practically hollered over the line.
“You don’t need to protect me, big bro. I know what I’m doing,” I yelled back.
“I beg to differ,” Stan said. “With men, you never know what you’re doing.”
“I resent that!” I protested. “You have no faith in me. I can handle myself. I have to go,” I said, kicking myself for calling him in the first place.
“Tiffany,” he started, but I interrupted him.
“Bye, Stan, keep Saville out of trouble, and stay out of my love life,” I said forcefully into the phone, and stabbed the “End Call” icon on the screen.
I sat on my couch, legs folded under me, still feeling a wonderful soreness between my legs.
The problem was, Stan was right. I didn’t really know what I was doing. But I’d just pretend that I did and hope for the best.
***
I resisted the urge to call, and I didn’t hear from Alex again before the deposition, scheduled for Tuesday morning. I was a little panicky by then. I kept telling myself over and over that I was okay if our relationship was just physical, that I could survive if Alex didn’t want any more than that.
I was trying to convince myself.
At 9:30, I headed to the same conference room where I had first met Alex, where the deposition was scheduled to be held at 10:00. I always liked to get to formal meetings early so I had time to collect myself and prepare.
At the meeting, I
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