All That He Desires (The Billionaire's Seduction Part 2) by Olivia Thorne Read Free Book Online Page A

he thought he could win. But my three queens beat his two pair.
    “Damn it, I wanted to see more,” he growled, staring at my breasts again.
    “There’ll be time.”
    “So… two pieces of clothing?” he asked, both hopeful and mocking at once.
    I considered.
    “One question, one piece of clothing.”
    “Which one first?” he asked with a seductive little smile.
    “The question.”
    “Go for it.”
    I knew I shouldn’t ask it… I knew I was asking for trouble, for heartache, for a swift kick to the gut…
    …but I had to know. And it was going to keep on driving me crazy if I didn’t ask.
    “How many women have you slept with?”
    He stared at me, sphinx-like, and didn’t answer for a second. When he did, his face was a blank slate, and his voice was carefully controlled. “Are you sure you want to ask that?”
    “Yes,” I said in a quavering voice, when the truth was actually No . I wasn’t sure at all.
    He shook his head. “I don’t think you do.”
    “Just tell me.”
    “The truth?”
    When he said that, it was confirmation I should have never asked. I most definitely wasn’t going to like the answer.
    Still, I’m stupid that way.
    “Yes.”
    His face relaxed into something like resignation, and he shrugged. “I don’t know.”
    I frowned. “You don’t know?!”
    “No.”
    “Well – give me an estimate, then.”
    “It’s over fifty for sure. Probably closer to a hundred.”
    I felt like I was going to be sick. My stomach twisted and churned with nausea.
    I was just one more in a long line of conquests.
    This was nothing special… I was just bimbo #97 to him.
    How stupid was I, exactly? Handsome, rich, smart, funny, charming… he’d probably had women throwing themselves at him his entire life. Hell, I’d slept with him right away, and I never, never, never did that, not ever. And I was thinking this was going to be a fairytale?
    Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID –
    His voice broke into my interior monologue of abuse and self-loathing.
    “I told you you didn’t want to know,” he said as he leaned the side of his face on one balled-up fist.
    He was right.
    I didn’t answer.
    My internal struggle was obviously playing out on my face, so he just kept talking.
    “I get to pick the piece of clothing, right?” he asked, reaching up for his top button. He could tell I wasn’t happy – in fact, that I was miserable – and was basically going through the charade to keep the situation from becoming any more uncomfortable than it already was. “I think I’ll – ”
    “How many in the last six months?” I blurted out, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
    He tensed slightly. In fact, he looked more uncomfortable now than before. “That’s two questions. You said one question, one piece of – ”
    “I changed my mind,” I answered, straining to keep my emotions in check. “I want to ask another question.”
    “Because the first one was so pleasant for everyone involved.”
    I ignored him. “How many in the last six months?”
    He sighed. “Including tonight?”
    Now I was getting angry. “ Yes, including tonight.”
    He stared into my eyes, no hint of a smile on his face.
    “One.”
    12
     
    I didn’t understand at first. The math didn’t register.
    But he slept with ME tonight – that’s one – but I asked about the last six months – and he still said one – “I’m the first woman you’ve slept with in six months?!” I cried out.
    Suddenly my heart lifted.
    I guess I should have kept in mind that I was still #97 or whatever, but the fact that I was number one in the last six months was something.
    It let me think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t an average Friday night for him.
    And it quieted the little voices in my head calling me stupid and idiotic .
    “That’s three questions,” he smiled.
    I think he was smiling because he knew it was back on. He’d snatched victory out of the jaws of defeat with his answer, and he knew it.
    But why had