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Prologue

Adrian

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“Can you believe how we started?” Suzette questions, her voice barely above a murmur. I’ve gotten used to her whispers this late at night. I’ve gotten used to far too much because of her. This room, on the top floor of the most coveted skyscraper facing Bryant Park, has been hell every morning when the partners arrive. When they leave, and most of the lights turn off, and Suzette hesitantly knocks on the large walnut door to my office … it’s been nothing but heaven.

As if I would ever turn her away. As if I could possibly deny myself, let alone her.

“Can I believe how we started?” The low timbre of my voice carries an echo of her question, a chill flowing along my shoulders as the air conditioner switches on. My gaze slips to the dark wood flooring barely lit by a single lamp in the corner of the office. Then it falls to my silk tie atop the puddle of Sue’s cashmere blouse, both items thrown carelessly on the floor. She’s still naked, completely bared to me, although I’ve pulled up my slacks. I relax into the high-back chair, my bare skin against the leather, and watch Sue reach for the bottle of scotch. The glasses clink together when she grabs them next. Her pale rose nipples are soft now that she’s sated and the sight of them persuades me to run my thumb along the pad of my pointer, desperate to toy with her and bring them back to hardened peaks for me to suck and pluck, forcing more of those delightful sounds from her cherry-red lips.

As she turns slightly from where she’s lying across my desk, the dim lights of the city shine through the large paned glass windows and cast shadows along her tempting curves. She is my safety, my temple of solitude, my everything. At this moment, I’m far too aware of what she means to me.

“Yes,” she speaks confidently, raising her voice as the amber liquid is poured into the first glass. “I was just thinking that I never would have imagined we’d have …” she pauses, her chest rising and falling with a single breath before carefully placing herself in front of me. The bottle sits to the left of her, and both glasses are to the right. “This,” she finishes. With Suzette seated on my desk, her bare feet planted on my chair between my spread legs, her ass balanced on the edge and her breasts directly at my eye level, I have to tilt my chin up to meet her gaze.

The little vixen smirks. She knows what she does to me. I didn’t even realize I’d fallen for her until it was too late.

It was nothing more than a game at first. I don’t know when it all changed and turned into “this,” as she put it. I don’t know when it became what it is, but now that I have it, I don’t want to lose it.

Can I believe how we started? Did I know it would turn into this?

“No,” I say, giving her the answer I know she wants to hear. Her simper and huff of a laugh warm the coldest depths of me, but they’re quick to freeze the moment she hands me the cut crystal tumbler of whisky.

I sip it regardless, because she wants me to and because as I do she indulges herself, relaxing and confiding in me. It’s all I want, for as long as I can have it.

She has no idea that everything is going to change only hours from now. I’m the only one suffering of the two of us. I can only imagine the betrayal she’ll feel tomorrow when the headlines reveal the truth in black and white.

With the soft hum of a satisfied woman, Suzette leans forward, lowering her lips and positioning them right there for the taking. The glass landing with a hollow thunk on the maple desk is the only sound in the room besides the raging of my blood pounding in my veins. A moment passes, the heat blistering in her gorgeous gaze as if she can see through me. My stomach sinks and a sick feeling takes over in only a split second as her head tilts and an unasked question seems to linger at her lips.

I act before I let on that anything is wrong. My kiss is nothing shy of ruthless. I don’t hold back a damn thing. I take exactly what I want from her because I know, in the depths of my soul, it will be our last time together. Tomorrow, she’ll want nothing to do with me. Nipping her bottom lip, I take advantage of that sweet mouth of hers when her lips part with a provocative moan.

“I want you again,” I confess to her in a low groan that rumbles up my chest. Both her hands have gripped my shoulders so it’s no surprise when her nails dig into my skin and she calls out in surprise as I grab her ass off the edge, pushing her back flat against the desk so I can take her again as I have a dozen times or more.


Tags: Willow Winters Billionaire Romance