Crossland (Billionaire’s Game #4) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire's Game Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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At least when I turned eighteen, I’d been able to get custody rights over Brecken, but it was a yearlong battle that cost me thousands of dollars to get my parents to sign over the rights.

So, yeah, like Jesse implied, I didn’t exactly know my value…because I gave it all to Brecken. I always had. It had always been me and her, and I always did everything I could to protect her from my parents until I could safely get her out of that toxic-as-hell environment. I would continue to give all I had to her so that she could have the life she deserved.

And I didn’t have a bad life at all. Just a busy, complicated one.

I had a wonderful sister, an okay job that at least kept us fed, and I had the best friend a girl could ask for in Jesse. And now I had ten thousand dollars for thirty minutes of pretending to be some rich guy’s girlfriend. I mean, what were the freaking odds?

Jesse had dragged me out tonight because I’d been joking about how I was about to eat peanut butter and crackers for dinner for the third time this week, and then he took me to a random club, where a random rich man asks me to fall into his lap?

Again, weirdest night ever.

A crisp breeze chilled my warm skin as we lingered outside the building, the city’s nightlife surrounding us in full swing. All the city’s brightest and most beautiful were strutting down the sidewalks like it was their own personal runway. Everyone was hustling to and from social events looking as carefree and as fun as ever.

I knew I didn’t look like that and I had no delusions that I would ever look like that. Not when I’d exhausted myself to the bones raising myself and my baby sister for the last decade, and I was okay with that life.

But, sometimes, on nights like this, when Jesse dragged me out of my studio apartment in Brooklyn and brought me into the city, I played pretend.

I loved pretending.

That’s probably why I’d been so good at the role Crossland asked of me.

Beyond watching Brecken thrive, there was nothing I enjoyed more than escaping my daily grind. Whether that be in a book, a great movie, or a night out with Jesse where I pretended like I was any other twenty-something with their whole life ahead of them—chasing down a hard-earned career or starting a passion project that I’d dreamed about my entire life.

Brecken was that passion project for me. Ensuring she could put her brilliant mind to the test at her dream college.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Jesse asked as we lingered outside of the club. “Or do you want to go get some food?”

I definitely had that post-thrill buzz radiating beneath my skin. I wasn’t exactly ready to go to bed, but I knew for a fact I couldn’t go back to that club. If I did, I’d be looking over my shoulder, hoping that the rich guy might make another appearance. Not because I wanted his money, but because he had stunning blue eyes that turned me into a puddle.

It had been so damn long since I’d felt any kind of physical connection, and one touch from him had me on fire. I could still feel it, that slight ache between my thighs, that edged hunger for affection, for release.

Funny, I’d kept those feelings buried for months, but one scrap of attention from Crossland and I was practically panting.

It’d obviously been too long since my last one-night stand, and if we’d stayed in that club, I’d be hoping to score that with him. One night. That’s all I ever allowed myself, if I ever felt that chemistry with someone. I worked too much, and history had proven that the second men figured out I had zero aspirations other than to work and make enough to get my sister through college and keep us fed, they bailed.

“Food always sounds good,” I finally said, even though I’d stuffed my face with snacks in Crossland’s VIP game suite, or whatever the hell it was called, that rested above the club.

I was no stranger to cards, but I didn’t understand their betting system in the slightest. The chip values didn’t make sense to me, but I guess when you could throw away ten grand for thirty minutes of someone’s time, the poker bets wouldn’t be standard.

“Food it is,” Jesse said. “Do you want to go to that street vendor you love so much? It’s only a few blocks away.”

My eyebrows pricked up at the idea of sinking my teeth into my favorite taco. It would certainly be the cherry on top of this strange evening.

“That sounds like perfection,” I said, and then grinned. “And since I just got a new deposit,” I added, tapping my little black clutch for emphasis. “I’m buying.”



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