The Good Mistress: A BWWM Billionaire Romance Read Online Free PDF

had been on the deed, and now she had acquired the debt. 
    “They've left at your request, Miss Ali. What can I do for you?”
    “Don't insult my intelligence, Baldwin. I want to speak with you in private.”
    Blake mumbled something under his breath; his chiseled face still held a glint of cockiness.
    She watched the “bedhead” of an alluring Latina rise from between Blake’s knees. The woman kept her back to Mila while buttoning her shirt. Chin up, Mila tried to keep her judgmental eyes from the homewrecker as the girl began the walk of shame. With a deep sigh, Mila closed the double doors behind her. When she turned around, Blake stood. 
    He undid the buttons of his linen shirt, and her eyes zeroed in on the perfect V as his undone pants fell. His waistline was stacked with muscle. The muscles in his arms chiseled like a Demi god. Then Mila’s eyes landed on his shirt as it fell to the floor. Rationality returned. 
    “Wh... What are you doing?”
    “Taking a shower, Miss Ali. Join me, if you’d like. Didn’t you come to chew me out?” He shoved down his pants as if this were an Armani boxer brief commercial. He shoved off his underwear. “By all means, chew me the fuck out.” 
    Her eyes popped. Flaccid. But so huge. Saliva liquefied her mouth. As he moved around the desk, Mila glared at a crescent-shaped, tanned ass. No boxer/brief lines. The sun adorned every inch of Blake’s body.
    “Ms. Ali, keep staring and I'll have to insist you join me.”
    She had no words. This type of shit did not happen in real life. Men didn’t disrobe at work. He was playing a game of entrapment, as if she couldn’t deny him. Well, I’m a different breed than he’s used to; I am Mila Ali. I’ve seen horrible inequality that many can’t even imagine, even after my family moved to Ethiopia. With my MBA, I’ve helped fatten the pockets of rich men. Mila placed her hands on her hips, knowing she had never been the type to lose herself over a man. Heck, she didn’t even do it for the money when working for Hewitt. Becoming an associate was supposed to prove to the most important man in her world—her father—that she’d made it.
    She took a deep breath, knowing that no matter how drop dead gorgeous Blake was, he had no hold on her. Fifteen was the last age where good looks blinded her.
    Blake wants to play games?
    Her heels resounded off the walls of Blake’s office as she stepped toward what was presumably a bathroom. The entire area seemed to have been transported from one of those Million Dollar Listing San Francisco shows and placed in his office. Just the fixtures were even more expensive than that of all the bathroom displays at her job. Gray tile with mosaic glass splashes gave the room a sanctuary-like allure. Her eyes narrowed as he stepped into the shower that could hold half the sluts running around the office at any given time. There were rain sprouts over a section of shower that had seating for those lazy days, and waterfall style sprouts for those days when a refreshing pour was needed.
    “Mila...” He twined her name, making it brand new after all the years of hearing it. Her eyes landed on him, trickling down his gloriously taut body as water caressed every inch of his muscles. “I'll take you complacent or aggressive.” He grabbed a bottle of L'Occitane.
    “I doubt that, Blake. You won’t be taking me any damn way.”
    Translucent white liquid squirted onto his large hand. Cum. She hadn’t had sex in 114 days, not that she was counting. He dropped the bottle onto the shower floor. Again, her eyes zeroed in as rain drenched every inch of his physique. Eyes connected with Mila’s he rubbed the soap onto chiseled pectorals. Her pussy walls quivered. But she was stronger, so much stronger than the juices drenching her thong.
    Mila stood, legs planted wide. Since there was no glass shower shield between them, nothing obscured their connection. 
    “My beautiful Mila—”
    “ My ?” The man was