The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans #5) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Filthy Rich Americans Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
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“You’re right. You’re very good. That was,” he searched for the right word, “impressive.”

The way he stared at me . . . I felt it all over my body. A throb began deep between my legs and made my voice tight. “Thank you.”

He finally broke the tension between us, pocketed his wallet, and worked to put his watch back on. “How’d you do it with Leitner?”

“A variation of this. He was thinking about my hand moving on his chest, not the one working his watch.”

The muscle running along his jaw flexed. He didn’t love hearing about how I’d touched the other man. It was shocking how I liked his possessiveness. He didn’t own me. Right?

“Does it help if I tell you I got him to back away and give me his watch because I insulted him?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Kind of.”

“What are you going to do with it?” I nodded toward Vance’s side pocket because he was still carrying Niko’s watch in there.

“I’ll make sure it gets back to him.” His smile was cryptic and a little evil, like he was delivering a threat. It was seriously hot. Once he was done fastening his watch band, he tugged at his shirt cuffs beneath the sleeves of his jacket, adjusting the fit. When he set his penetrative gaze on me, it said he was just at ease in the courtroom and boardroom as he was in the bedroom.

His stare was so hungry and sexual, my mouth went dry.

“You showed me what you’re good at. Now it’s my turn.” It came from him crisp and deliberate. “Take off your dress.”

Every muscle in me clenched. “What?”

God, the way I was trapped in his gaze—a spotlight I couldn’t hide from, not that I wanted to. He lifted an eyebrow in challenge, and although it was a simple action, it rang loudly through my body. He raised his chin and peered down at me like a captain at the helm of a ship and I was one of his crew.

“Got your attention, didn’t I?” he asked. “But no matter how much control you give me over that, I don’t think I’m getting your clothes off without you noticing.”

No, he was so very right. However, my brain was still hung up on his request. “You want me to—”

“Get naked? Yeah.” He pushed back the sides of his suit jacket so he could put his hands on his hips. It was the posture of a man who didn’t like to be kept waiting. “I’ve only been fantasizing about it all fucking week.”

“You have?”

It became clear to him I was too surprised to move, so he took over. His hands swept around me and traced up my back, searching for the zipper pull of my dress. It put his face beside mine, so he softened his voice and laced the words into my ear. “Every morning when you’re in the shower. You make me so goddamn hard, I can’t help myself.”

I sucked in a breath as his meaning doused me with lava. I matched his soft, seductive tone. “Do you know why I take such long showers?”

His fingertips must have found the small metal tab because he began to drop the zipper, tooth-by-painstaking-tooth. Electricity swirled around us, charging the air.

It was like he somehow knew the answer. His smile was sinful. “Is it because you’re getting yourself off?”

I nodded, too foggy with lust to find words. I only saw a flash of his pleased expression before he angled his head and brushed his damp lips over the pulse point in my neck.

“Do you put your hand between your legs?” He was hypnotic, mimicking the steady pace of the zipper as it marched down. “Do you slide your fingers inside your pussy and fuck yourself with them?” His erotic question burned and threatened to consume me. He was all around me and inside my head with his wicked voice. “Do you put your hand over your mouth to stay quiet, so I won’t hear you when you make yourself come?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

He’d reached the bottom of the zipper at the small of my back and peeled the two sides of my dress over my shoulders. Like I’d done with his watch, he didn’t need to see what he was doing when he undressed a woman.

He’d had plenty of practice.

Down the front of my dress went, all the way to my waist. I wasn’t wearing a bra, which I was sure he could see in his peripheral vision, but his gaze didn’t waver from mine. The phrase ‘not yet’ lurked in his gorgeous eyes.

I was a present he wasn’t finished unwrapping, and he wasn’t going to look until he could appreciate this gift in full.

My breath came and went in shallow, clipped bursts. I wanted his hands on my body so badly, I worried I’d shake apart, but somehow I managed to keep it together. At least, I did long enough for him to give the dress bunched at my hips a final push and send it sailing down my legs.



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