The Bride (The Boss #3) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
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“I can’t wait.” I tried for seductive, but I know it came off silly as all get-out.

There was a change in his tone when he said, “I must go, darling. Emir is still here, and I don’t want to be rude. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

Emir was still there? Oh, he was definitely going to have to spill the naughty details if he was spending the entire night with him. “I love you.”

“I love you, Sophie.”

After we hung up, I went back to the living room.

“Everything okay?” Emma asked, muting the TV.

“Yup, everything’s fine. We’re just being ooey gooey gross together. You wouldn’t want to hear about it.” She most definitely would not. Though Neil was open with me about his sexuality, his daughter was under the impression that any rumors of her father’s bisexuality were just that. Snapping the conversation back to what we had been talking about before, I asked, “So, you’re not upset that we’re looking for a house? I was worried you might think I was trying to get rid of you.”

“Not at all. Do you know how much simpler my life will be if my father lives two hours away?” She sighed in what I suspected was only slightly exaggerated bliss.

“Do you want me to try to convince him to move to Philly?” I asked with a snort.

“I hear Auckland is lovely, you might try there.” She rolled her eyes. “I love my father. I really do. But he’s so…”

“Overbearing?”

“At times, yes.” She shrugged. “I suppose it makes me a terrible daughter, doesn’t it? I should just be happy that he’s still here.”

“You can be happy that he’s still around and severely irritated with him, too. I speak from experience.” Even though I missed him like crazy at the moment.

“Well, thanks for telling me about the house. And I think I will take off tomorrow for a few nights with Michael.” Emma reached for the remote and clicked the volume on again. “Although I would love to see the look on his face when he finds out about that purse.”

* * * *

As it so happened, I did not have to tell Neil about the Birkin right away. I didn’t get the chance. When he came home the next evening, he was wiped out exhausted. He poured himself a drink, wrestled out of his shirt, and dropped into his chair by the fireplace in the living room.

“Turn that on, will you, wife?” he asked, smacking my backside as I walked past.

I flipped the switch to bring the gas flames up and frowned at him over my shoulder. “I draw the line at you ordering me around and calling me ‘wife,’ when you refuse to set a date. How was the flight?”

“Miserable. There was so much turbulence that at one point I thought I might actually be sick.” Neil hated flying, but he didn’t mind it as much when we were together. His face was pale and dark circles shadowed his eyes. I should have gone with him.

I rubbed my hands down the front of my denim-clad thighs as I took a seat on the sofa. “That bad?”

He put his glass on the coffee table and patted his knee. “I can’t have you all the way over there. Not after the day I’ve had.”

“You know, I’m really more interested in the night you had,” I reminded him. I took his hand to steady myself as I sat across his lap. His bare chest was warm and wonderful against my upper arm.

He gave me a tired smile and pulled me into his arms to lay my head against his shoulder. “Yes, yes, fine. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know everything!” I exclaimed. “Did you sub for him?”

“I did.” Neil kissed the top of my head, as though that were a sufficient end to the answer.

“Did you like it?” I demanded.

“I enjoyed myself. Though I can’t imagine I’d ever want to do it again.” He stroked my hair down my back, his fingers stopping to trace the band of my bra beneath my t-shirt. “The submission, that is. It was enough for me to try it. But it’s damned hard work.”

“You sound surprised.” I skimmed my bare foot up and down his ankle. It felt so good just to cuddle with him again. “And you do put me through the ringer.”

“Yes, I must admit, I have a new appreciation for your stamina.”

“So, what did he do to you?” I squirmed a little, pressing my thighs together, and I knew it wasn’t a subtle enough motion to escape his notice.

“Well,” he began with a slow, audible breath. He brushed my hair back from my neck and slowly drew his fingers up and down, from the bend of my collarbone to the top of my breast and back as he spoke. “There was a bit of making out, then he made me wait for a rather long time. On my knees, which hurt a fair bit more than I’d considered it might. I always give thought to how your joints feel when you’re bound, or what kinds of positions you can hold, but kneeling seemed so benign, I never stopped to think about how it was affecting your knees and back.”



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