Free The Good Mistress: A BWWM Billionaire Romance by Amarie Avant

time. Returning to the fold would be easy and help her save this home. But that lifestyle, the cutthroat mentality, didn’t sit right in the pit of her belly.
    Somehow, the mysterious Blake Baldwin popped into Mila’s thoughts. He was different. She wondered why he’d pushed away her desire to fuck him in the Employee Lounge. As an analyst for Hewitt, Mila understood certain behavior. Granted, she had called him an asshole one too many times and threw away his flowers, but Mila had been wet; ripe for the taking that day.
    How had she lost her mind so easily? She’d never been an owner of those cutesy little contraptions for lady parts. No dildo collecting dust. No penis envy when fighting another ex-cohort at Hewitt for a campaign. Nada.
    With the shake of her head, Mila tried to extract the desire from her mind. She’d gone from being the apple of her father’s eye, to having a keen eye, and an acute sense for reshaping small businesses. Then she’d found love with Warren, only to have it snatched away.
    I should have just stuck with the arranged marriage…
    She held her pillow tight, not wanting to be alone. In three weeks, Mila would delight in the sweetest of sin. Blake had the ability to make her heart beat while she was in his presence. He summoned the hardest emotions, desire, anger, irritation, need…
    This will be a business transaction. Just sex between two grown-ups. I am not a whore. Mila determined that a few rules might be in order. Blake seemed to have a large appetite. She’d whet his, and he would make the numbness go away, if only for a little while…

 
     
     
    Chapter 11
    Mila
    MR. CLEAN, THAT is exactly what Mila concluded, eyes darting up and down the frame of such a large man. As he stood on her porch, with dim light glowing down, she took in those bushy eyebrows. Heck, even the fact that he was clean shaven made her feel dirty.  Even in his stiff suit, that seemed to be tailored for his rather thick neck and build, he intimidated her. He’d called himself “Lamb” and said he would be her driver for the evening.
    Driver? Hmmm.
    Ex-Navy Seal or Homeland Security?
    Lamb’s mannerisms were stark, tone crisp and even more calculating than Blake’s. Yet, Blake’s guarded demeanor caused butterflies to take flight in her tummy.
    Lamb held out a large box, shiny onyx in color and silk to the touch, and backed away.
    Mila stood in her doorframe, unsure if she should grab her coat.
    Lamb’s icy stare glued on to hers. “Please get dressed.”
    “But...” The argument died on cherry red lips since his thick, suited frame paced back toward an awaiting Escalade. Mila turned, gripped the box under her arm, and went back upstairs.
    In the bedroom, Mila chucked the box onto her bed and stood before the tall mirror that leaned against the wall.
    “I look good,” she told herself. That damn Blake, he had to have known she spent valuable time determining what to wear. A deep breath fizzled out of her as Mila stepped toward her tall canopy bed and picked up the gift. Her hands untwined the satin bow. Inside, bunches of tissue paper began to fall out. Then her hands grazed an olive green teddy. Lace, with such intricate design, it was one of a kind. Lido would riot for a sultry little number like it. Next, she pulled out perfume.
    A quick spritz of the French concoction cast a spell around the room. The luxurious, smooth notes proffered Mila with a delicate floral façade.
    The
    Bastard.
    Again, she dug into the box. Stiletto heels that she paused to take a photo of and text to Lido and Veronica. Seconds later, back to back PINGs sounded as her girls replied. A smile dug at the corners of her mouth.
    Then the fucker had topped it all off with a camel coat. A moan escaped as she held it to her chest. It complemented her skin tone, as did the lingerie. Each item seemed to be specially selected to embellish. To adorn. To enhance her magnificence.
    Almost an hour later, she stepped out of the house