Free Billionaire's Threat by Sloan Storm Page B

be a common trait. Not this one though. Her scent was subtle, alluring. And she had the attitude to match. Even so, helluva a world where a woman who looked like she did had to whore herself out to get ahead.
    “Do you care?” I asked, as I placed my rocks glass back down on the table. As I reclined back into the couch, the room seemed to turn, almost spin.
    The woman’s lips stretched to their maximum, barely restraining the flash of her teeth. She shook her head once in each direction then slid her fingertips to my knee.
    “No. I don’t,” she replied.
    She sucked her lower lip and tossed a swath of her hair away from her eyes. I stared at her as an overwhelming urge rose up inside of me. I didn’t want to tip my hand, so I leaned away from her and pressed my back into the couch. Undaunted, she scooted closer to me, like a wanton serpent, wrapping the fingers of her free hand over my thigh as well. She curled her nails under like sexual talons and communicated her intent.
    “What are you doing whilst you’re here?” she asked.
    I arched a brow at her as I fought to restrain a hard swallow. “Does it matter?”
    She licked her lips as she ran her hands further along the inside of my thigh. Her smile vanished. A look of unmistakable intent took its place.
    “No. It doesn’t.”
    “Okay, so let’s talk about something else.”
    She shook her head and moved in closer. “No.”
    “No? What?”
    “Let’s not talk.”
    She leaned in pressed her lips against mine.
    It was the last thing I remembered.

    GREY
    When consciousness returned, I awoke to a headache that felt like someone had taken a goddamn brick to my skull. I rolled my head with a slow twist to the nightstand and spun the clock in my direction. It was just past eight in the morning. I inhaled, pressed my head back into the pillow and rubbed my eyes with the base of my palms.
    “Fuck,” I muttered.
    Just then, to my left, I heard a soft whimper.
    Arching a brow, I cast a glance in the direction of the sound. Streaks of bright white sunlight poured in through the half-open window curtains. Lying next to me, nude, was the prostitute from the club. Too ill to react, I shook my head in confusion.
    Huh? What the fuck?
    I shot to my feet, nearly losing my balance in the process.
    She had almost no reaction to my sudden movement. She only moaned and shifted her position a bit. My eyes wandered along her body, which lay partially exposed from beneath the fine hotel bed linens. Even in my hungover state, it was an easy eyeful. She was fucking perfect. Long legs, round ass. I continued to linger, trailing my eyes up the length of her backside until I reached her angelic face, draped in unruly stands of her black hair.
    I wiped my hands down the length of my face. Clenching my teeth, I turned away from her and went to the restroom. A few moments later, I grabbed a glass and filled it with water. Hammering it back, I savored the cool liquid as it quenched my thirst, but only a little. In rapid succession, I drank several more until at last, after the third glass, I placed it back down on the marble sink with a clink .
    I braced myself over the sink, locking my arms in place.
    I stood there in silence for a few seconds, hoping some goddamn memory would come back. Nothing did. Exhaling, I reached for the faucet, turned it on and cupping one handful after another, I splashed cold water in my face. The wetness woke me up a little more, clearing away the vodka-laced cobwebs from my mind. I reached for a towel and pressed it hard against my face, breathing heat into it as I exhaled.
    Just then, I felt a pair of hands slip low across my waist and head straight for my cock. Shocked, I tossed the towel away from my face and spun in place. Even a night of heavy drinking had no effect on her. Her skin glowed with a youthful lust. Dark hair hung down low, just covering the top of her ample tits.
    Her dark eyes sparkled with eagerness as she moved close to me, pressing her