The Billionaire's Wife Read Online Free PDF Page A

pudding.
    “No,” he said.
    It took a second to register. “What?” I cried. “Why? You
asked me to... why?”
    And he laughed. He laughed at me.
    “Miss Dare, why on earth would you buy the cow if you could get
the milk for free?” And he brought his fingers up to his lips. Without taking
his eyes from mine, he licked them clean one... by... one.
    I turned and fled.
    I barely had the presence of mind to grab my purse—and the
contract—as I left my dignity behind. Bursting through the double glass doors,
I didn't even pause to fix my hair. Instead I just made a beeline for one of
the pairs of wooden doors and crashed through them.
    I ran past Arthur. I didn't even turn to tell him goodbye. My
gait was awkward as I rubbed my thighs together, rushing to the elevator. I
slammed my hand against the button and, mercifully, the doors opened
immediately. I stumbled inside and they closed behind me, beginning their
descent.
    I was so close to coming, I didn't care that I was in an
elevator. I shoved a hand into my jeans, parting my pussy lips and revealing
the nub of my clit to my questing fingers. Desperately I rubbed my fingertip in
tight, quick circles, my other hand snaking its way up under my shabby sweater,
slipping beneath the strap of my bra. I squeezed my breast and pinched my
nipple, sending a stab of need straight down through my belly. My knees buckled
and I staggered against the hand rail circling the small space, my body on fire
with need. My moans filled the elevator, my face numb with heat and my cheeks
burning with shame.
    Dipping my fingers into my slick folds, I dragged moisture over
my clit, slipping and sliding, my hips bucking against my hand. In the dark of
my head, I imagined Anton Waters scraping his large, rough fingers over me, and
with a final thrust I dragged myself over the edge. My back arched and I cried
out, my head banging against the wall as I thrashed, waves of pleasure crashing
into me, threatening to drag me out to a deep and hungry ocean I had only begun
to realize was there.
    My whole body seemed to contract with the force of my orgasm, my
hungry passage squeezing tight around nothing. It wasn't enough. It couldn't be
enough. Not when I could have been fucking him. I almost sobbed with
disappointment, even as I rode it out, my body locked in tight spasms.
    The pleasure faded, and I barely had enough time to pull my hand
out of my pants before the elevator doors opened.
    A group of business men stood in the foyer, waiting. They pushed
their way inside, and I barely had enough presence of mind to slip by them and
make my escape.
    I had just masturbated in an elevator. And I'd come in record
time.
    Gulping, I wiped my sticky fingers on the inside of my sweater
and hurried past the receptionist and out the door. The cool air of fall
slapped me across the face, sobering me.
    Couldn't have even waited til you got home, huh? I
thought. Pathetic.
    My mind reeled as I wound my way through the burgeoning lunch
crowd, and I took three wrong turns before I found my way to the subway
station. When I finally boarded the subway car, I buried my face in my hands
and tried to think. The smell of my own juices clung to my fingers, reminding
me of how salaciously I had behaved. I tried to pick through my feelings, but
by the time I got home, the pickings were still slim.
    I only knew two things. I hated Anton Waters. And I was going to
fuck him.
    Maybe in more ways than one.
     

 
    Chapter Two:
    Bartered Seduction
     
     
    The next morning found me sitting
in a lawyer's office and nursing a powerful hangover.
    ...Okay, fine, I was still drunk.
After my encounter with Waters and my subsequent shameful display in his
elevator, I'd knocked around my little studio apartment, feeling dazed and
useless. I even went on a cleaning binge to try to make myself feel better, but
when I realized I'd moved the same dirty plate back and forth from my futon to
the low coffee table where I ate five times without even