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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“I told him he should imagine you sucking my cock.” Her shoulders lift with her tiny inhale, not quite a gasp. “Because it’s the nearest he’ll ever get to having you again.”

“Nice.” She twists from my hold. “Thank you for putting those words out there.” Her eyes flash, her gaze slicing over her shoulder. “For putting that image in his head.”

“I’ve warned you time and again who I am.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m the idiot.” Her eyes flash with defiance, and she begins to move. I grab her elbow and step into her, my shoulders blocking the moonlight from her face as she lifts her chin with the hauteur of a queen.

“Eve, you see the good and the bad in me, and you’ve yet to look away.” Her lashes flutter as I press my thumb to her pulse, knowing full well I might never get this chance again.

“This is a very bad idea.” She whispers her only protest as I angle my head, ghosting my lips over hers. I’m not to be trusted, that much is true, but I don’t think she can trust herself either. “But then, bad ideas seem to be our specialty.”

“Eve Fairfax. The only woman I know who can slice me apart with one look, only to seduce me with the next.”

She gives a soft gasp as I suck over her pulse, her words less steady than she’d like, I’m sure. “Which do you deserve right now?”

“Only you can decide.” I’ll never deserve her, but fuck it, I would die trying.

Her lips are as clever as her comebacks when I press my mouth to hers. I kiss her deeper, my hands slipping under my jacket, making it slide from her shoulder in my quest to touch.

“Oliver, not here,” she rasps, catching the slide of fabric. “Getting arrested won’t help my visa.”

She’s right, but I’m not thinking straight. I just want her. No, I need her.

“I can’t wait.”

“And I can’t be arrested.”

My hand molds her hip, sliding higher, her breast a delightful weight against my palm. No bra. I swallow her groan as her nipple pebbles under my thumb. “Then it’s a pity your body is such a raging flirt.”

Her answer is the kind of noise that echoes at the base of my cock. Why must she be so small? Sweet like a peach, and so utterly beautiful. As though hearing my thoughts, her nails suddenly dig into the flesh of my arse, closing any space between us.

A thought drops into my head, and I take her hand, beginning to move us in the opposite direction. “Come on.” Once, a long time ago, I remember there being a building nearby. An old folly.

“Where are we going?” Her exhilaration is as clear as the flush in her cheeks.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Not as much as you’d like to think,” she says with a soft snicker.

I was right, anticipation tightening my skin as I spot the small structure though the trees. It’s a little off the beaten track and has perhaps been overlooked in security terms. I send out a silent prayer anyway.

“Ladies first.” I almost swing her ahead, only to wrench her back against me. A deep groan rises through my chest. I’m as hard and as hot as a poker, and her dress and underwear offer little in the way of protection. “Get your delectable arse in there.”

Eve swings around, her gaze dark but bright as she steps backward into the darkness, and I follow her.

The folly smells of damp grass and misuse, the ground underfoot chalky as I step closer. I wrap my arms around her back, dipping my knees to bring me against that hot, tight piece of heaven between her legs. The taste of her mouth and the feel of her in my arms are like stepping into a dream to find it real.

“Let me . . .” I cradle my arm between her bare back and the cold, damp wall, my hand slipping between us. My fingers trailing the soft pout of her inner thigh, her breath a heated burst against my neck. “I pressed my teeth here, remember? God, I can still hear your whimper.” The noise she makes seems involuntary, swallowed back, lips closed around it.

She won’t close for me.

“And here.” I press my palm to her pussy, the heat of her enough to make a man lose brain cells. “Ah, Eve. I still dream of your taste.”

Her next sound is more guttural as her hands slide into my hair, pulling my head closer. I groan as she licks the salt from my neck, curse as she sucks.

“Touch me,” she demands. “Please.”

I slip my fingers under the gauzy excuse for underwear, a silky string thong. Twisting the fabric between my fingers, I give it a sharp tug. She gasps as the fabric gives, both sounds witness to our need.



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