The Ex (The Boss #4) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
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The note went on to suggest our assistants coordinate our schedules, but I was hung-up on the not appropriate part.

I heard Neil’s sound of understanding and quickly killed speakerphone.

“What do you think?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

“I think we’re getting dumped, darling.” His disappointment was evident in his tone. “There’s always a chance that we’re misreading it—”

“He’s our fuck buddy, and he wants to see us and not fuck us. I think that’s pretty clear.” It was a shame. I really liked Emir, and not just the sex. We’d had some good times over the summer when he’d stayed with us for a week. It had been fun to get to know him. I wondered if we would all stay friends.

We set a date for drinks the next night. I chose a sleek blue sheath dress and gold heels, and I kept my hair loose around my shoulders. If we were getting dumped, I wanted to look good.

Neil seemed to have the same idea; despite the size of our closet, we kept colliding with each other and swearing under our breaths as we got ready. He wore a dark gray suit with a crisp white shirt and a powder-blue silk tie with a waffle texture. When he looked over his shoulder at me, he stopped buttoning his silver cufflinks to ask, “You’re wearing gold jewelry? Should I change these?”

“Silver goes with your hair,” I teased. “I don’t know why we’re so tense. We kind of know what to expect coming into this.”

“Look, if he’s ending this thing, I want him to regret it a little bit,” Neil said, checking his hair in the mirror. “Leave a good last impression, so he remembers us fondly.”

“And misses us like crazy.” I stepped up close to him and laid my hand against the lapel of his jacket. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Of course.” He gave me a sad half-smile. “And you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. On the one hand, we don’t know that he’s breaking up with us. On the other hand, I don’t think I’m as emotionally attached to him as you are.”

Neil went very still.

“It’s all good,” I said gently. “I’m not stupid. You guys shared something special in London. He was your first good Dom. If you feel for him the way I feel for you—”

He raised his head and gazed at the ceiling in his usual don’t-be-silly-Sophie expression. “Well, I wouldn’t take it quite that far.”

“But you had a good experience with him. And we had a good time over the summer. I’m not saying that you love him more than you love me, but maybe you have a little crush on him.” I straightened his tie. “I’m not mad. And I’m going to miss him, too.”

We flew into the city and met Emir at a bar in lower Manhattan. He’d selected an actual bar, not a place where we could get dinner, which had only reinforced our suspicions.

When we entered, the hostess took us to a VIP table in the back, an isolated corner booth with ceiling-high dividers to keep our conversation private. Emir waited there already, impeccably dressed as always, and he stood as we approached. His black hair brushed his collar—I liked the messy, curly look on him—and he sported some stubble on his jaw.

“Leif, Chloe,” he greeted us, using the names we always used, the boundary between our relationship as a couple and our relationship with him. He took my hands and kissed my cheek, and did the same with Neil before we sat down.

“You’re both looking well,” Emir leaned back with one arm propped on the back of the banquette.

Neil and I sat close together across from him. Goose bumps tingled over my freshly-shaved legs. Despite the fact that we were expecting bad news, my body responded to Emir’s presence. My libido didn’t know any better.

Neil moved his hand to my knee under the table, stroking his ring and pinkie finger lazily along the inside. I wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of Emir’s charisma.

You’re here because he’s breaking up with you, I reminded myself.

I looked between the two of them. We needed to respond in kind, didn’t we? “I like your hair!” I blurted then cleared my throat.

A server came to the table, a sleek blonde woman with a tall, slender neck. Emir regarded her appreciatively. I bristled. He could at least not move on in front of us.

Well, not move on. We had no idea what Emir did between his visits with us. We knew he had a wife, and other lovers. But we didn’t share those kinds of details with him, so we didn’t expect him to share them with us.

Not that there was much to share on our end. Apart from our occasional hook-ups with Emir, we didn’t see anyone else. Neil and I had discussed the possibility of finding another lover, but it was always in passing, a “someday” conversation.



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