No Romeo (My Kind of Hero #1) Read Online Donna Alam

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors: Series: My Kind of Hero Series by Donna Alam
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Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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“You’re so good, my darling. Fuck, yes.” His husky compliments turn to masculine grunts, his broad shoulders blocking the light as he presses his knee between my splayed legs.

There’s no need to imagine now, my eyes falling to his right hand working slickly along his length. As he breaks, my insides pulse and contract as though to join him. I make a noise, one I can’t classify, the sight of him covering me in pearly strands shockingly hot.

With a curse, he falls forward, catching himself on the velvet arm. Then I’m tasting my arousal from his lips as he kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m his life raft.

“You.” He drags in a breath, his words a rush of air across my neck. “Oh, God. You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

My laughter vibrates against him. “Have I broken you?”

“Eve—”

I press my finger over his lips. Smiling, he bites the tip.

“You can’t be broken, because we didn’t have sex.”

And maybe if I close my eyes, I can pretend he’s not here.

“Fine, we didn’t have sex.”

“So it doesn’t count,” I assert. “What just happened was nothing more than a . . . very personal workout.”

“I should fire my personal trainer.” Before I can respond, his body dips, his next words a low growl in my ear. “Sex or not, I agree with your underwear. I could eat you out forever.”

I mean, sure. Go for it. Meanwhile, what?

And then I remember. I remember which pair.

—WOULD EAT HERE AGAIN

I begin to chuckle, our skin sticking together. Oliver opens his mouth to speak, only, with a sudden spasm, he jumps up with a roar. His ass hits the floor, and I lean over the edge of the couch.

“What the heck was that all about?”

His jet hair falls across his forehead. It does nothing to detract from his thunderous expression. He inhales, blowing air from his nose like an angry bull. “That,” he mutters, filling the word with such distaste, “was the result of your dog licking my arsehole.”

Chapter 22

OLIVER

A Little Bird Told Us . . .

“Good morning.” I steal a kiss to Eve’s cheek as she turns her phone over to hide the screen, though not before I catch a glimpse of that ridiculous gossip column. I choose not to comment on her reading habits, perhaps distracted by her hair, which resembles a messy bush.

“Morning.”

I smile at her reply as I pull out a chair at the dining table.

She swallows what appears to be a bite of melon before decorously pulling the sides of the branded hotel robe a little tighter. “I expect the coffee is cold now.”

“I wonder whose fault that would be?” Don’t judge her for her reading habits, but you do judge her, whispers an unwelcome voice in my ear.

“Yours, obviously,” she retorts, her eyes sparking gold in the morning sunlight. “You who hauled me into the shower this morning.”

Something powerful and heated bursts inside me as she slips the downy collar of her robe lower to reveal a sucking bite to her skin.

“Hauled is such a strong word.” I push away the soft whisper of hypocrite as I swipe my finger gently over the evidence of my desire. Desire, yes, but how I felt in the moments before was more complex. I envied and I coveted. I wanted to punish. To possess. To own.

I wanted to swallow her whole.

“Oh, it was the right word, all right.” Eve ducks her head, concealing her smile but not her pink cheeks as she adds, “Just look at the state of my hair.”

I stifle a smile as I snag the coffeepot, pouring the lukewarm liquid into my cup as an image flashes in my head: Eve on her knees, her hair darkened by water from the shower, my hands tangled in the strands. Her lashes flutter, her gaze full of the power she holds over me.

Fuck. The coffeepot hits the stand heavily as I set it down.

It’s just sex, I caution silently. Not even actual sex—no penetration. Unless I count my tongue in her—

My heart races, my thoughts chasing after it. It’s just because she’s here. Available. We’re just using each other, enjoying the advantages of proximity. There’s no power. No knowledge. No stirrings of love.

Because love gives someone the power to break you.

It’s a timely reminder.

“I can’t blame you completely,” Eve adds, obliviously patting her hair. As she narrows her gaze on the mutt resting by her chair, I’m brought out of my head.

How is the dog to blame?

“He’s cleverer than you give him credit for,” she says, intuiting my thoughts.

I lift my cup. She attributes more intelligence to Bo than is due. “I don’t quite know how to put this, but you do remember he licked my arsehole?”

“I didn’t say he didn’t have fetishes.” She barely gets the words out for her giggles. “He is smart—I know he’s hidden my brush. He probably confused it for his. He hates any kind of grooming.”



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