Read Online Feisty Princess (Sexy Manhattan Fairytale #2) by Michelle A. Valentine - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michelle A. Valentine
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caught a glimpse of it back there.
Alexander
STANDING IN THE FOYER OF my apartment, I glance down at my watch. What in the hell takes a woman so damn long to get ready?
Jimmy paws at my leg, begging for my attention. I bend down and scratch the soft fur behind his right ear. “I can’t play right now, buddy. You be good for Aggie while I’m gone.”
Diem’s right. I have a hard time resisting this dog no matter how hard I try.
A sigh escapes me as I stand upright and check my watch again . I hate being late; it’s a pet peeve of mine. I always have to be early. I’m tempted to go to Margo’s room to tell her to hurry her sweet ass up, but before I can decide, she appears at the top of the staircase.
My breath catches at the very sight of her in her black gown. She pauses for a brief second, and our eyes meet just before she descends the staircase. It’s like watching a scene from a movie with her moving in slow motion, as she gets closer and closer to me. She’s pulled her dark hair back, and the style accentuates her gorgeous face. She’s even more stunning than any time I’ve ever seen her before. It’s truly like staring at a piece of art, but I don’t think Diem could even create something so perfect. I can’t pull my eyes away.
I stand there with my mouth hanging open, and it’s hard for me to even find the appropriate words to say to her as she halts directly in front of me.
Margo glances down at her outfit and runs her hand over her stomach as if to smooth out the fabric that’s already lying perfectly in place. “It doesn’t fit exactly right, but I think it can work for a few hours.”
I bite my bottom lip. “You’re stunning, Margo.”
Her hypnotic blue eyes flit up to meet mine, and my heart flutters in my chest. “Thank you. That’s the first real compliment you’ve ever given me.”
I tilt my head. “I don’t believe that’s true. I distinctly remember telling you that you had great tits.”
She bends down to pet Jimmy on the top of his head before flicking her eyes back in my direction. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?” I ask, completely perplexed as to what she’s referring to.
“Get crude with me every time we have a conversation. Every time you say something sweet to me, I almost start believing you aren’t a complete asshole, but you always ruin the moment with that mouth of yours. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice every once in a while.”
Her words stun me for a moment. I didn’t mean to insult her, and having her in a pissy mood before we leave for this event isn’t ideal. God knows I don’t need her bitching me out in front of the very people who need to believe we’re in a real relationship.
“You’re right, Margo. I’ll work on that,” I tell her. “I promise to tone things down a bit.”
“Thank you,” she replies. “It will be nice not to be sexually harassed by you every time we have a conversation.”
“I’m not saying it’ll never happen again. I mean, have you seen you? I can’t help thinking about your body and sex when I see you. You’re sexy as hell,” I admit.
Redness creeps up into her cheeks, and it’s the first time anything I’ve ever said to her has caused that reaction. At that very moment, I realize the way to win Margo Buchanan over is with flattery. My habitual filthy talk had turned her on and helped me find my way into that sweet pussy of hers, but it never made her blush. It was like it pissed her off, but she was so turned on that she allowed me to fuck her even against her better judgment. But telling her how amazing I think she looks and meaning it affects her.
“Ready?” she prompts.
I shake my head. My palms begin to sweat as I reach into the pocket of my dress slacks. The velvet box in my hand suddenly feels like it weighs a ton as I hold it out to her. “I got you something.”
Her eyes widen. “Alexander . . .”
“It’s just a replacement for the one I gave you in Vegas. If we are
Alexander
STANDING IN THE FOYER OF my apartment, I glance down at my watch. What in the hell takes a woman so damn long to get ready?
Jimmy paws at my leg, begging for my attention. I bend down and scratch the soft fur behind his right ear. “I can’t play right now, buddy. You be good for Aggie while I’m gone.”
Diem’s right. I have a hard time resisting this dog no matter how hard I try.
A sigh escapes me as I stand upright and check my watch again . I hate being late; it’s a pet peeve of mine. I always have to be early. I’m tempted to go to Margo’s room to tell her to hurry her sweet ass up, but before I can decide, she appears at the top of the staircase.
My breath catches at the very sight of her in her black gown. She pauses for a brief second, and our eyes meet just before she descends the staircase. It’s like watching a scene from a movie with her moving in slow motion, as she gets closer and closer to me. She’s pulled her dark hair back, and the style accentuates her gorgeous face. She’s even more stunning than any time I’ve ever seen her before. It’s truly like staring at a piece of art, but I don’t think Diem could even create something so perfect. I can’t pull my eyes away.
I stand there with my mouth hanging open, and it’s hard for me to even find the appropriate words to say to her as she halts directly in front of me.
Margo glances down at her outfit and runs her hand over her stomach as if to smooth out the fabric that’s already lying perfectly in place. “It doesn’t fit exactly right, but I think it can work for a few hours.”
I bite my bottom lip. “You’re stunning, Margo.”
Her hypnotic blue eyes flit up to meet mine, and my heart flutters in my chest. “Thank you. That’s the first real compliment you’ve ever given me.”
I tilt my head. “I don’t believe that’s true. I distinctly remember telling you that you had great tits.”
She bends down to pet Jimmy on the top of his head before flicking her eyes back in my direction. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?” I ask, completely perplexed as to what she’s referring to.
“Get crude with me every time we have a conversation. Every time you say something sweet to me, I almost start believing you aren’t a complete asshole, but you always ruin the moment with that mouth of yours. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice every once in a while.”
Her words stun me for a moment. I didn’t mean to insult her, and having her in a pissy mood before we leave for this event isn’t ideal. God knows I don’t need her bitching me out in front of the very people who need to believe we’re in a real relationship.
“You’re right, Margo. I’ll work on that,” I tell her. “I promise to tone things down a bit.”
“Thank you,” she replies. “It will be nice not to be sexually harassed by you every time we have a conversation.”
“I’m not saying it’ll never happen again. I mean, have you seen you? I can’t help thinking about your body and sex when I see you. You’re sexy as hell,” I admit.
Redness creeps up into her cheeks, and it’s the first time anything I’ve ever said to her has caused that reaction. At that very moment, I realize the way to win Margo Buchanan over is with flattery. My habitual filthy talk had turned her on and helped me find my way into that sweet pussy of hers, but it never made her blush. It was like it pissed her off, but she was so turned on that she allowed me to fuck her even against her better judgment. But telling her how amazing I think she looks and meaning it affects her.
“Ready?” she prompts.
I shake my head. My palms begin to sweat as I reach into the pocket of my dress slacks. The velvet box in my hand suddenly feels like it weighs a ton as I hold it out to her. “I got you something.”
Her eyes widen. “Alexander . . .”
“It’s just a replacement for the one I gave you in Vegas. If we are
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