I Choose You (The Billionaire Brothers Series) by S. Ann Cole Read Free Book Online
Authors: S. Ann Cole
wrapped around him. Every orgasm he’d had after that, he found himself imagining it was her he was buried deep inside of. He couldn’t fathom what the hell was happening.
She was all kinds of incompatible for him: she was young, she was tiny, delicate. Too delicate. He’d ruin her.
Though, something about the way she looked at him told him she was delicate to the eye only. He sensed there was a monster crouching behind that small frame of hers. And he found himself wanting to strip her bare, tear her open, and murder that monster for her. So she could float freely on the wind like the delicate angel’s feather she was.
He wanted her.
Badly.
But he was afraid to take her. He would only destroy her: set the tip of that soft feather on fire and watch it burn to ashes. He would burn the feather of an angel and piss God the hell off. And that’s when he’d really be deserving of the name Hellion. That’s when his inevitable journey to hell would take off full fucking speed.
Sipping at his drink, he got up from the couch and strode around the room, scanning the girls out in the club through the one-way glass. He was searching for someone around five feet two inches in height. He was searching for someone dainty, with a super-slim waist, full breasts and a shapely ass. He was searching for someone with plump, cherry-red lips, a slim, long neck, and red-painted fingernails.
Fuck, he was searching for her.
After about ten minutes of scanning the club of girls from left to right, without so much as a jerk-reaction from his cock, he concluded the angel feather’s allure was inimitable. Dozens of the most enticing women were sauntering around his club, yet he couldn’t find one he thought could match her. She was unique, like all angels. She couldn’t be replicated.
At that moment, he decided the angel’s feather would soon be his feather: the fiery red feather of a demon’s wing.
With one last swallow, he knocked back what was left in his glass and walked back across the room. Slamming the glass down on the table with more force than needed, he ignored the grunts and groans coming from the other end of the room where Mark, Nardo, and the two women they’d entered with, were engaged in a mini orgy: one girl getting drilled from the back by Nardo, as she licked the other girl, who was giving Mark a blow-job.
Retrieving his jacket from the armchair, he shrugged it on and announced, “I’m out.”
“The hell?” Zane said. “Dude, you just got here!”
“Yeah,” he replied, wrenching the door open. “Not in the mood tonight. Lates.” He was out the door before any of them could say anything to stop him.
Trevillo wove through the club, peeling off each girl who tried attaching themselves to him like a magnet, grabbing his crotch, and begging to be the one to make his night one of pain or pleasure. Once he finally managed to get into the elevator, he pulled out his cellphone and pressed the number assigned to his favorite girl.
“Hola, Devil Boy,” she answered. “Como estas?”
He wanted to give her an equal greeting and even inquire about the status of his baking niece, but he had more important, urgent, somewhat scary and insane matters on hand.
“Remember what I told you in your poolroom during your short break-up with Love?”
Axia laughed. “The ‘confession’ of which you threatened to burn my gym down if I dare told anyone?”
“Yeah. Well, I think I found the person … ” He hesitated. “The one I want to experience it with.”
“Does she know?”
“Not yet.”
On a sigh, Axia offered, “Trev, you can’t just ‘choose’ someone. It doesn’t work that way. It just has to happen, take you by surprise. In such a way you won’t even know it until you’re balls-deep in.”
Trevillo scoffed. “That’s what the universe says. But I’m me, remember? I spin in the opposite direction of the world, while everyone else spins with it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Axia, I
She was all kinds of incompatible for him: she was young, she was tiny, delicate. Too delicate. He’d ruin her.
Though, something about the way she looked at him told him she was delicate to the eye only. He sensed there was a monster crouching behind that small frame of hers. And he found himself wanting to strip her bare, tear her open, and murder that monster for her. So she could float freely on the wind like the delicate angel’s feather she was.
He wanted her.
Badly.
But he was afraid to take her. He would only destroy her: set the tip of that soft feather on fire and watch it burn to ashes. He would burn the feather of an angel and piss God the hell off. And that’s when he’d really be deserving of the name Hellion. That’s when his inevitable journey to hell would take off full fucking speed.
Sipping at his drink, he got up from the couch and strode around the room, scanning the girls out in the club through the one-way glass. He was searching for someone around five feet two inches in height. He was searching for someone dainty, with a super-slim waist, full breasts and a shapely ass. He was searching for someone with plump, cherry-red lips, a slim, long neck, and red-painted fingernails.
Fuck, he was searching for her.
After about ten minutes of scanning the club of girls from left to right, without so much as a jerk-reaction from his cock, he concluded the angel feather’s allure was inimitable. Dozens of the most enticing women were sauntering around his club, yet he couldn’t find one he thought could match her. She was unique, like all angels. She couldn’t be replicated.
At that moment, he decided the angel’s feather would soon be his feather: the fiery red feather of a demon’s wing.
With one last swallow, he knocked back what was left in his glass and walked back across the room. Slamming the glass down on the table with more force than needed, he ignored the grunts and groans coming from the other end of the room where Mark, Nardo, and the two women they’d entered with, were engaged in a mini orgy: one girl getting drilled from the back by Nardo, as she licked the other girl, who was giving Mark a blow-job.
Retrieving his jacket from the armchair, he shrugged it on and announced, “I’m out.”
“The hell?” Zane said. “Dude, you just got here!”
“Yeah,” he replied, wrenching the door open. “Not in the mood tonight. Lates.” He was out the door before any of them could say anything to stop him.
Trevillo wove through the club, peeling off each girl who tried attaching themselves to him like a magnet, grabbing his crotch, and begging to be the one to make his night one of pain or pleasure. Once he finally managed to get into the elevator, he pulled out his cellphone and pressed the number assigned to his favorite girl.
“Hola, Devil Boy,” she answered. “Como estas?”
He wanted to give her an equal greeting and even inquire about the status of his baking niece, but he had more important, urgent, somewhat scary and insane matters on hand.
“Remember what I told you in your poolroom during your short break-up with Love?”
Axia laughed. “The ‘confession’ of which you threatened to burn my gym down if I dare told anyone?”
“Yeah. Well, I think I found the person … ” He hesitated. “The one I want to experience it with.”
“Does she know?”
“Not yet.”
On a sigh, Axia offered, “Trev, you can’t just ‘choose’ someone. It doesn’t work that way. It just has to happen, take you by surprise. In such a way you won’t even know it until you’re balls-deep in.”
Trevillo scoffed. “That’s what the universe says. But I’m me, remember? I spin in the opposite direction of the world, while everyone else spins with it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Axia, I