The Bride (The Boss #3) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
<<<<172735363738394757>151
Advertisement


After we hung up, I sat with my finger hovering over the track pad. Holli was right. There was nothing on that list that would make me not want to marry Neil. So there was no sense in even looking.

But I bookmarked it just in case.

* * * *

Neil texted me at one saying I should call him at around five for our phone sex rendezvous, because he’d be between meetings. Then he texted again at three to tell me his schedule for the day had gone off the rails, and he wouldn’t be home until after ten.

I whimpered as I read the text, then scolded myself. I’d gotten so spoiled by having Neil to myself all the time, and I’d known that it would be hard to go back to the way our lives were when we’d just started dating. Compared to our old routine of Skype sex during the week and the occasional weekend together, things weren’t so bad for us now. Still, I dialed his phone, because I needed to hear his voice.

“Sophie?” He sounded concerned, but a bit distracted.

“You’re really not going to be home until ten?” I whined.

“I’m sorry, darling, but I did warn you that going back to work—”

“Would mean taking care of stuff that piled up while you were gone. I know. You’re making up for a year off.” I resigned myself to falling asleep to reality television.

“Look, darling, I have to go, but do call me later. Around seven, I should have time then. Do you remember what you have to do this evening?” he asked, his voice pleasantly neutral. The naughty man was talking to me about this in a room full of people, I was sure of it.

“Of course I do, Sir,” I purred.

After we hung up, I told Sue she should knock off an hour early and leave dinner to me, since Neil wouldn’t be coming back and he’d probably eat at the office. Then I worked on a video for my YouTube channel.

After India had started linking my videos to her massively popular Tumblr, I’d had to invest a lot more energy into them. I couldn’t just point a flip phone at the mirror and do my eye shadow. Now I had a studio light, a small, collapsible background, a state-of-the-art HD camera and professional microphones. The videos used to be a hobby, dashed off in a couple hours’ time. Now, I worked for weeks on just one, and Neil had taken to calling the library “the studio.” They just weren’t as much fun as they’d been before. Today, I decided I would record a tutorial on a smoky eye look—if Neil did get home early, I might be able to pull off the sultry vixen routine—and consider whether continuing with the makeup maven shtick was worth it.

At around six, I put away my stuff, washed my brushes, said goodnight to Sue and headed into the bedroom. Neil wasn’t always going to be around for sex, but it wasn’t like working late was the worst thing that had ever happened in our sex life. When he’d been ill, we’d gone for months without making love. I knew how to make this work.

Part of making it work was committing fully to great sex with myself. I ran a hot bath with lots of bubbles and scrolled through Neil’s iPod, since he’d left it plugged into the sound system in the bathroom. I found Morcheeba and decided I could definitely get down to their slow, sultry beats. I lit the candles around the garden tub, hit the lights, and sank into the water.

I leaned back, careful not to let my messily pinned up hair get wet. That would be uncomfortable later, when I moved to the bed. I had an awesome bath pillow, and I rested my head and neck on it as the tub’s jets blasted away the soreness in my calves and thighs. Closing my eyes, I imagined Neil coming home and catching me like this. I could clearly see him standing beside the tub in his button down and expensive trousers, his sleeves rolled up to the thickest part of his forearms. He would watch me wordlessly for a while as I stroked myself beneath the water…

I slipped my fingers down my body, lifting my hips as my hand strayed closer and closer to its goal. If Neil really were here watching me, I would take more time, teasing my nipples and making long, fluttering sweeps down my stomach. Since he wasn’t—and since he’d given me the time-consuming task of fifteen edges—I parted myself with my fingertips and made slow, gentle circles around my clit. The hot water moving around the unprotected bundle of nerves made me sigh, and a naughty smile bent my lips. I briefly considered getting out to retrieve the video camera, but the water was so nice and warm, and touching myself felt so good, I didn’t want to stop.


Advertisement

<<<<172735363738394757>151

Advertisement