Free Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) by Julia Kent

kind of private time
he was hoping for.
    He popped on the computer and opened a chat window at the dating site.
She wasn’t in his “Favorites” any more. Huh? He ran a search – no Laura
Michaels. It was as if she had vanished.
    Blocked?
    ***
    Beep-beep-beep! She whammed her hand on the alarm button, but it
was elusive; a little too far out of her grasp, but instead she whacked the
heel of her hand on the corner of her end table and listened to her own yelp of
protest.
    “Damn it.” She opened her eyes, giving the machine a glare meant to
melt circuits. 6:00 a.m. – time for work. Really? Had she really only
gotten two and a half hours of sleep at best? Shit.
    She stood up, forced herself to stretch and then wondered why she felt
so sore, so sticky, so
    Oh. Dylan’s tongue on her clit, lapping in circles as his finger
slid in and out, her legs on his shoulders and – That’s why. She
closed her eyes and sighed heavily, letting emotion wash over her and just
feeling it, knowing that blocking it, denying it, or pushing it aside would do
her no good.
    Let it be and it would fade. Force it away and she’d carry the pain
forever.
    What she had thought might have been just wasn’t meant to be, and she
had to accept that. Too good to be true, really – the night was some sort
of magical, very authentic encounter with a hot guy way out of her league.
    But that was okay. It was okay. It was a new day and she reached for
her smart phone, confirming the time and then seeing that she had about
twenty-seven texts from Josie, and she’d have to answer those later. Josie
would make her spill everything, tell all, and would congratulate her for
refusing to accept second best.
    Right now, though, Laura needed to wallow. And that, like so much else,
was okay.
    Her coffeemaker gurgled, the telltale signs that the cup was just
about finished. She had forgotten that before the date she’d set it all up just
like she always did, had come home from work and set up the coffee for the next
day. Grateful, she sloshed the coffee into her mug and sat down, booting up her
computer to check email, today like any other morning, although she knew deep
inside it really wasn’t.
    Dylan, Dylan, Dylan, Dylan, Dylan.
    Laura popped into her email, ignored a bunch of ads, found nothing of
real value in there until suddenly she noticed that the online dating site had
sent her a message. “You have a new request to chat.” Yep – boom,
boom, boom, boom . A hugely full inbox.
    She had 17 new requests to chat. Yeah, right – they wouldn’t be
chat requests, but rather fuck requests. Thanks, guys, I’m all chatted out
and my fuck request meter is broken.
    She knew it was all right, deep down. That’s what she wanted
– she wanted more of last night. The magic. The thrill. Being charmed and
charming someone back. Falling into that special knowing and feeling warm and
safe and excited all at once, the heady passion of the new.
    The image of the pictures all over Dylan’s room filled her brain
– that woman, his girlfriend, his wife, his whatever . He didn’t
wear a ring, but that didn’t mean anything. She had learned that within her
second or third date after college. The married men always lied and they tended
to be the slickest – and this guy was pretty slick. Laura took a deep
breath and it almost tasted like he was in her, as if his scent had permeated her
lungs, as if it coated her trachea, as if –
    Inhale. Exhale . She breathed in, she breathed out –
breathed in sadness, breathed out happiness, breathed in sorrow, breathed out
joy. No matter how hard she tried, though, it wasn’t cutting it. Caffeine would
have to do what meditation could not, no matter what her yoga teacher said
about the evils of coffee. You can pry my caffeine from my cold, dead,
outstretched hand.
    She sucked down the cup of coffee, poured herself another and thought what
the hell and clicked on one of those chat messages in email. Hmmm. Hey
there, Mike , she