Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
As he passes, Winston plucks me from his body and sets me to my feet. “I’m serious. No one comes in this apartment.”
I can almost read the warning in his gaze. Not even Nate. Don’t worry. I’m not falling for that again.
“I won’t let anyone in.” I smooth his hair back that I’d messed up during our kiss. “And you never answered my question.”
Perry laughs as he stands from the couch. “On that note, I’m gone too. You driving or am I?”
“Daniel,” Win says. “I told him to wait in valet.”
“I’ll go sit in the car so you two lovebirds can make out.”
Winston ignores his brother’s comment, instead letting his hot gaze drag down to my lips. “How will you pay for it?”
He loves our games as much as I do.
“What do you want?”
“That’s a dangerous thing to ask a man who has everything,” he warns. “It might be something you can’t give me.”
“I’ll figure out a way to make it happen.”
“So desperate.” He reaches up and hooks a finger under my chin, tilting my face up. “If you’re going to be in my bed, maybe I should get to tie you up so you can’t get needy and cling to me all night.”
“Hmm, naked and tied up in a billionaire’s bed. You really twisted my arm, Win. Where do I sign up?”
He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Your smart mouth needs to be punished.”
“I’ll be the naked teenager in your bed waiting for you to defile me.”
His glare is murderous. I’m highly entertained, though, when my palm covers the bulge in his pants. This guy is mine. A perfect match for me. Always down to do the same filthy things I want to do.
“Please be careful,” I say, standing on my tiptoes to brush a kiss over his handsome mouth.
“You make good on your end of the deal and I’ll get through tonight to make good on mine.”
With those words, he turns on his heel, leaving me alone, but taking my heart with him.
He better bring it back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Winston
Manhattan Mile High Club is a swanky restaurant on the 80th floor of one of the tallest buildings I don’t own. Yet. It belongs to a family who’s been in this city far longer than the Constantines have. However, they can’t hold on to it forever. Eventually they’ll sell to me because I’ll keep sweetening the deal until they do.
“You think this will go smoothly?” Perry asks, tension in his voice, as we pull up to the curb in front of the building.
“It will.”
“So sure of yourself.”
“I have to be,” I tell him with a shrug. “If I doubt myself, then my opponent will too. If I enter every fight knowing I’ll win, they’ll never have a chance.” He starts to open the door, but I stop him by grabbing his arm. “Stay quiet and let me or Anthony do all the talking. We’ll be in and out soon enough. For some reason, if Leo loses his shit and things go sideways, you find Xavier and Todd and get the hell out.”
He frowns hard at me, his eyes darkened by shadows. “If things go sideways, I’ll find you and then get the hell out. I’m not leaving you, Winny. Ever.”
“Mother will never let me hear the end of it if I let her golden child get killed.”
“I know in Win’s World, you’re this sole dark hero who saves everyone in his wicked vicinity, but in the real world, your brother—who can bench just as much, if not more than you—is going to back you up no matter what. You don’t have to do everything by yourself.” He holds up a fist. “Team Constantine, remember?”
“I’m not bumping your fist like we’re hoodlum teenagers. And you’ve been hanging out with Ash too much.”
He just grins at me, still holding his fist up like an idiot. I finally bump it, so he’ll get out of the goddamn car and on with it.
We enter the Manhattan building that’s been around probably since the beginning of time for all I know. The lobby is elegant and has the distinct, cloying scent of old money and privilege—sweet and a little bitter. Whereas most of my buildings have been renovated and updated with the changing times, this particular one still boasts Art Deco from the late ’30s. Brass-inlaid geometric patterns adorn the arched ceilings, terrazzo floors gleam as though they’ve been recently polished to perfection, and the etched-glass doors along the corridor to the elevators all complete the dated look.
When this building is mine, I’ll rip all of this out and give it a much-needed makeover.
Perry and I stand in front of brass elevator doors, staring at our distorted reflection. From this viewpoint, we could be twins. Both suited. Both blond. Both similar in build. Despite my brother being a man child a lot of the time, he’s stepping up considerably where this family and Halcyon are concerned. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t have to shoulder all of the burden. Once, I shared that burden with Dad. It’d feel good to unload some of it on Perry once he can handle it.