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She smells like soap and heat and well-fucked cunt. She smells fucking delicious.

“Come on, keep me company. Help me sleep.”

She starts to pull the robe off my shoulders. I can see how this woman founded a company. She just won’t listen to the word “no.”

And I don’t want to say it to her, anyway. I want to wake up next to those bright blue eyes, that perfect body…

I sigh. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

I dump the robe on the floor and climb in next to her.

Her skin is wonderful to be wrapped around. So

soft. So smooth.

After a few moments, we settle for the classic post-coital position. Me on my back, her arms across my chest.

It’s a cliché position, but with her, everything feels just right.

She runs her fingers through my hair and looks into my eyes one more time. And I feel two more stabs: one of regret and one of desire.

Then she puts her head on my chest, mumbles something about being satisfied, and falls asleep almost instantly. I wish I could say the same for me.

I lie awake for what feels like hours—staring at the glittering cityscape outside the penthouse windows.

Wondering and worrying—they’re not feelings I’ve felt in a long time. Normally, I’m more the doing and making-happen kind of guy.

Normally, I don’t become sexually infatuated, and—let’s face it—romantically invested, especially not with my step-niece.

Normally, it’s me and my high-rolling and my money and my fun.

Me. Alone.

Actually, come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve actually slept next to a woman in a very long time. Usually, I kick them out of the fucking door before they can get the feeling that I might let them stay.

But this…it’s excellent. Completely worth it.

Her quiet breathing, her soft little whines…it’s the quietest and most content I’ve ever seen her.

I want it to stay this way.

I wish it could.

Chapter 30

Mira

Everything is perfect.

Sunlight falls through the curtains, slowly rousing me from sleep.

Did last night really happen? Or did I just dream it?

I feel Owen shift, and I can hear his heart beating under my ears, so, no, I wasn’t dreaming. I’m not dreaming.

This is all real.

I fucked Owen Westbrook.


Tags: Alexis Angel Billionaire Romance