Poor Little Bitch Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

moved toward him, impulsively throwing her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, nuzzling close and inhaling his masculine smell. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. But now that it has, I think it was meant to be. You do know how much I love you, and how I’ll always be here for you.”
    “Yes, I know,” he said, his mind racing in a hundred different directions, none of them pleasant.
    “It’ll be such a relief when we can come out in the open,” she said, imagining herself accompanying him to important Washington events and glittering dinner-parties. “You’ll see.”
    “Yes,” he said slowly. “Only you must allow me to handle things my way.”
    “I will,” she promised.
    “You cannot say a word to anyone,” he reminded her. “That’s imperative. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, of course I do,” she said, kissing him, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth.
    In spite of himself he was aware of a familiar stirring in his pants.
    He felt angry, cornered and threatened, yet the conniving bitch could still give him a hard-on.
    Placing his hands on her breasts he began tweaking her nipples through her blouse.
    “Lock the door,” he muttered after a few moments, his voice suddenly thick with lust. “Then take off your top, get down on your knees and do that thing with your tongue you do so well. We’ll call it a celebration.”
    “Yes, Gregory,” she murmured, thoroughly grateful that everything was going to be all right. “Whatever you want.”

 
Chapter Four

Bobby

    W hen Bobby Santangelo Stanislopoulos walked into a room, women took notice, for not only was he over six feet tall, in his mid-twenties, and undeniably hot, he possessed great style. With his longish jet hair, intense black-as-night eyes, Greek nose and strong jawline, he drove women a little bit crazy. And it wasn’t about being incredibly good-looking – which he was. Nor was it about being the heir to a major fortune – which he also was. No, it was just a certain something. A mix of the young John Kennedy Jr., a touch of the Ashton Kutcher edge, and the mysterious allure of a Robert Pattinson.
    Bobby’s Greek billionaire father, the late Dimitri Stanislopoulos, had been a powerful man, a true force in the business world of shipping and commerce. Bobby had never harbored any desire to follow in his father’s footsteps – that kind of business was not for him. Nor did he wish to emulate his mother’s successes. The wildly beautiful Lucky Santangelo had always done things her way – including building several Las Vegas luxury hotels, and running and owning Panther Movie Studios for several years. Bobby had always been surrounded by high achievers. Apart from his parents there was his stepfather – Lennie Golden – a former comedian/movie star, who now wrote and directed highly successful independent films, and his maternal grandfather, the inimitable Gino Santangelo.
    So . . . what was a young college guy supposed to do to make his own mark in the world?
    Fortunately, Bobby had big ideas of his own, and without asking anyone’s permission or opinion, he’d dropped out of college, headed for New York with his best friend, M.J., the African-American son of a renowned neurosurgeon, and the two of them had put together a group of investors, enabling them to open Mood , a private club, which after a few months had taken off and become the late-night place of choice.
    Bobby was a hybrid of both parents. He’d inherited Dimitri’s dominant personality, along with his acute business savvy, and he possessed Lucky’s addictive charm, stubborn ways and strength of character. Not a bad combination.
    Everyone wanted to be Bobby’s friend, but Lucky had taught him at an early age that when it came to friends and acquaintances he had to be extremely discerning. “People will want things from you because of who you are,” she’d warned him. “Money always manages to attract the wrong people. Look at