Read Online Rich Bitch: Everything's Going to the Dogs by Nancy Warren - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nancy Warren
Tags: Suspense, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy, romantic suspense, Mystery & Suspense
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then impossibly, wonderfully, heart-stirringly oh,
Mon Dieu!
as she cried out and shattered.
One more long, beautiful thrust inside her pulsing body, another, causing tiny aftershocks to radiate deep within her; he wanted to hold himself back, she could tell, just as she knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. His cry was guttural and fierce when he exploded deep within her body. She held him through his shudders, loving the feel of his muscles and skin so damp and hot rubbing against hers.
They kissed and held each other for a long time and then fell asleep just as day was breaking.
***
Vince woke to silence. He took a moment to stretch and orient himself. A smug grin was plastered across his face where he suspected it would stay for days.
He reached out for Sophie, as he’d reached for her twice more during their few hours together, each time finding her sleepily responsive, and then wildly so. But the grin stalled when he realized he was alone in the bed. A glance at the clock told him it was ten-thirty. Late for him to start the day, but then, he hadn’t exactly had a restful night.
Probably, she was making coffee, and breakfast, he thought as he rolled to his back and contemplated all the wonders of a gorgeous, sexy, Cordon Bleu-trained dog sitter staying in his apartment.
He sniffed appreciatively, wondering what the chances were that she’d bring him the paper in bed. Hmm. Maybe the Doberman could be trained to fetch the Times and bring it to him on the weekends. He sniffed again … but none of the mouth-watering smells from his fantasy were reaching him. No rich, dark coffee aroma, no scent of sizzling bacon.
It was so quiet he might as well be alone in the apartment. He didn’t hear a single dog sound. No scratching at his door, no snuffling, no clicking nails on his hardwood floors, no howling, growling, barking of any kind.
He was out of bed and dragging on jeans in an instant.
“Sophie?” he called out as he yanked open the bedroom door.
Nothing.
Even more odd, no clatter of tiny and oversized paws flying hell for leather across the floor to maul him. Only silence. Eerie, heart-pounding silence.
Sophie was gone. The dogs were gone. He took a second to regroup and try to calm his pounding heart when it registered on his panicked brain that the leashes were also gone. She’d taken off for a walk. Panic turned to anger.
What was the matter with the woman? A crazy ex was stalking her and taking pot shots, and she was going back out there on foot. Did she have a death wish?
He was out of his front door and pounding down the hallway when he heard the elevator doors open, and there she was, looking as fresh as a spring morning, with Lady and The Tramp in tow, a brown bag from which heavenly fresh-bread scents arose, and a smile that had his heart pounding all over again. Instead of blasting off at her as he’d planned, he felt more like the Doberman, who gazed at her adoringly and drooled.
“Good morning,” she said, in a soft, sexy tone that reminded him of every intimate thing they’d done last night. Her accent was as soft and alluring as a caress. When she spoke he heard the slide of cotton bedsheets across heated, tangled limbs, the pant and sigh and “oh, that feels so good” of great sex.
It was there in her sparkling eyes and knowing smile, the way he could see her nipples perk to attention flirtatiously as she gazed at him, so he felt his cock stand to attention ready to flirt back. More than flirt.
He couldn’t blast her, and he couldn’t stand here in the hall with his tongue hanging out about to whine softly for a treat. He had something important to say, and he had to say it.
“You should have woken me,” he managed.
Her smile curved higher. “You need your sleep. For later.”
His lips turned to rubber. Not later, he wanted to say. Now. “I was worried.” And in that second he realized how absurd it was to stand out in the hallway with the still-leashed dogs staring
Mon Dieu!
as she cried out and shattered.
One more long, beautiful thrust inside her pulsing body, another, causing tiny aftershocks to radiate deep within her; he wanted to hold himself back, she could tell, just as she knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. His cry was guttural and fierce when he exploded deep within her body. She held him through his shudders, loving the feel of his muscles and skin so damp and hot rubbing against hers.
They kissed and held each other for a long time and then fell asleep just as day was breaking.
***
Vince woke to silence. He took a moment to stretch and orient himself. A smug grin was plastered across his face where he suspected it would stay for days.
He reached out for Sophie, as he’d reached for her twice more during their few hours together, each time finding her sleepily responsive, and then wildly so. But the grin stalled when he realized he was alone in the bed. A glance at the clock told him it was ten-thirty. Late for him to start the day, but then, he hadn’t exactly had a restful night.
Probably, she was making coffee, and breakfast, he thought as he rolled to his back and contemplated all the wonders of a gorgeous, sexy, Cordon Bleu-trained dog sitter staying in his apartment.
He sniffed appreciatively, wondering what the chances were that she’d bring him the paper in bed. Hmm. Maybe the Doberman could be trained to fetch the Times and bring it to him on the weekends. He sniffed again … but none of the mouth-watering smells from his fantasy were reaching him. No rich, dark coffee aroma, no scent of sizzling bacon.
It was so quiet he might as well be alone in the apartment. He didn’t hear a single dog sound. No scratching at his door, no snuffling, no clicking nails on his hardwood floors, no howling, growling, barking of any kind.
He was out of bed and dragging on jeans in an instant.
“Sophie?” he called out as he yanked open the bedroom door.
Nothing.
Even more odd, no clatter of tiny and oversized paws flying hell for leather across the floor to maul him. Only silence. Eerie, heart-pounding silence.
Sophie was gone. The dogs were gone. He took a second to regroup and try to calm his pounding heart when it registered on his panicked brain that the leashes were also gone. She’d taken off for a walk. Panic turned to anger.
What was the matter with the woman? A crazy ex was stalking her and taking pot shots, and she was going back out there on foot. Did she have a death wish?
He was out of his front door and pounding down the hallway when he heard the elevator doors open, and there she was, looking as fresh as a spring morning, with Lady and The Tramp in tow, a brown bag from which heavenly fresh-bread scents arose, and a smile that had his heart pounding all over again. Instead of blasting off at her as he’d planned, he felt more like the Doberman, who gazed at her adoringly and drooled.
“Good morning,” she said, in a soft, sexy tone that reminded him of every intimate thing they’d done last night. Her accent was as soft and alluring as a caress. When she spoke he heard the slide of cotton bedsheets across heated, tangled limbs, the pant and sigh and “oh, that feels so good” of great sex.
It was there in her sparkling eyes and knowing smile, the way he could see her nipples perk to attention flirtatiously as she gazed at him, so he felt his cock stand to attention ready to flirt back. More than flirt.
He couldn’t blast her, and he couldn’t stand here in the hall with his tongue hanging out about to whine softly for a treat. He had something important to say, and he had to say it.
“You should have woken me,” he managed.
Her smile curved higher. “You need your sleep. For later.”
His lips turned to rubber. Not later, he wanted to say. Now. “I was worried.” And in that second he realized how absurd it was to stand out in the hallway with the still-leashed dogs staring
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