Unleash Me, Vol. 1 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series) by Christina Ross Read Free Book Online

shirtless tuxedo Blackwell had chosen for me earlier
in the day, but because it was so cold, I also had on a lovely, mid-length,
black cashmere coat from Tom Ford that she had surprised me with before we went
downtown for the photo shoot.
    “ I
can ’ t
have you going belly up on me with pneumonia now, can I? ” she
had said when she gave me the coat.   “ Here.   This will keep you warm.   It ’ s my personal gift to you.   It ’ s also my small way of saying ‘ congratulations ’ on
your success. ”
    “ It ’ s lovely! ” I
said when I put on the coat.
    “ It ’ s a bit too large for
you, ” she
said as she studied me.   “ Especially in the
waist and at the chest, where God apparently decided to rob you of
breasts.   You ’ re tiny, but I thought
I got it right.   But damned if I
didn ’ t.   I ’ ll fix it this week.   There is no way I ’ m
going to let you wear that for long without it being fitted to you. ”
    When Tank ’ s door opened and I
saw my boyfriend in his Levi 501s and flannel shirt, I swept myself into his
arms.   He swung the door shut behind
me, and we just stood in the entryway for a moment, holding each other while I
felt the warmth of his body against mine.   It was comforting and reassuring.
    “ I
missed you today, ” I
said.
    “ Did
you? ”
    “ More
than you know. ”
    He leaned down and kissed me.   “ I also missed you. ”

He helped me out of my coat, stood
back, and gave me a low whistle.  
    “ Jesus, ” he
said.
    I twirled in front of him.   “ You like? ”
    “ You
look hot. ”
    “ This
isn ’ t
me.   You know that.   This is just what Blackwell and Bernie
turned me into today.   Oh, the power
of hair, make-up, and good clothes. ”   I
walked over and pressed my hands against his chest.   “ Would you like to take my suit off me? ”
    “ In
fact, I would. ”
    “ Let
me freshen up in the washroom, and maybe I ’ ll let you strip me bare and have your way with me. ”
    “ Don ’ t tease me. ”
    “ Who
says I am? ”   I glanced down at his jeans, which
were bulging exactly where they should be bulging.   “ Why would I deny myself of that? ”
    “ You
shouldn ’ t.   But would you like something to drink
first? ”
    “ What
do you think? ”
    He grinned at me.   “ You ’ re
in a mood. ”
    “ I
just want to be with you.   Can you
blame a girl? ”
    “ Martini? ” he
said.
    “ That
would be lovely. ”
    “ Coming
up. ”
    I went into his bedroom, which led to
his master bath, where I looked around for some mouthwash.   I found some in a cabinet, took a swig,
swished it around in my mouth, and then spit it out.   I checked my face and reached into my
clutch to apply a fresh coat of lipstick. Then, I checked my hair and my
make-up, which were fine.   Finally,
I adjusted my suit.   When I was
finished, I closed my eyes and thought of Tank ’ s arms around me a moment before.   There was love in that embrace, warmth
that went beyond warmth, and I was lucky for all of it.  
    Still in my Louboutins, because I
knew they would turn him on, I clicked into Tank ’ s kitchen, where he was waiting for me with a perfectly
chilled martini.   He had a fresh,
frosty glass of Guinness in his hand.   My boyfriend was not of the martini set — he was all man, and I loved him for
it.  
    We moved into his spacious living
room, where a curtain of windows that spanned the entire space overlooked Fifth
Avenue and all the lights that glowed beneath us, ahead of us, and above
us.  
    I ’ d been in his apartment many times over the past two
weeks.   The furnishings reflected
who Tank was — brown
leather sofa and chairs, an absurdly large flat-screen television affixed to
the wall opposite the sofa, an antique coffee table made of thick mahogany and
glass, and on the walls, a surprising collection of contemporary art that had
nothing to do with the decor.   It
was a mix of the masculine and modern, which just made him more of a