Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I held on to the end of the bed as I felt his tongue swirl around me. Over and over. Bringing me to the edge. The spark came closer, almost hitting the dynamite to make me explode into pieces.
But then it stopped. “Bartholomew…”
He dropped his jeans to his thighs. “I’m coming, sweetheart.” He ripped the packet, rolled it on, and then grabbed both of my hips before he shoved himself inside.
My moan was practically a scream. God, I loved that dick. It hurt—but it felt so good.
His hand flattened against my stomach, and he brought me into him, having me sit on top of him slightly as we both kneeled on the rug around my bed. He ground into me, feeling our bodies move together, all the while feeling me up and rubbing my clit at the same time. “Nothing can stop this.” His lips were at my ear, his voice so deep that it turned me on even more. “Not even you.”
6
BARTHOLOMEW
We took a seat at the circular table. Except for the two of us, every seat was empty.
Camille sat beside me, dressed in a beautiful black dress, her hair styled nicely. On her left hand, a diamond ring sparkled. It blew our story, but I didn’t ask her not to wear it. If people thought I was fucking a married woman, that was right in line with my image.
“You seem distracted.”
I’d been staring into the crowd, at nothing in particular. “I’m thinking.”
“About?”
Pussy. One, in particular. “My drugs are crossing into Croatia, but now I have my eyes set on another territory.”
“Italy,” she said. “I remember.”
“I’m trying to make that happen, but it’s complicated.”
“You could not make it happen,” she said. “You’ve got all of France and now Croatia.”
I issued a quiet laugh.
“What?”
“Just because your husband copped out easily doesn’t mean I will.” I continued to stare at the mingling guests at the dinner, waiting for my opportunity to speak with the French diplomat. I successfully imported the drugs across the border, but it was a costly endeavor. If I could get shipping regulations changed, it would make my life easier.
Camille stared hard at the side of my face. I could feel her attitude like a wildfire. “Let me ask you something.”
“This should be good…”
“How much money do you have?”
I released a quiet chuckle. “Wouldn’t you like to know…”
“I’m guessing it’s billions?”
I didn’t answer.
“You have all this money, and you can’t even spend it. What’s the point? To pay in cash when you’re at the gas pump? To have free groceries for the rest of your life?”
I tore my gaze away from the crowd and looked directly at her. “Because we have these little rendezvous, you think you know everything about me. But in fact, you don’t know me at all. And you definitely don’t know a damn thing about my money.”
That shut her up.
“I own a hundred different businesses across Paris. Restaurants, storage facilities, gyms, bars, everything you can think of. That’s how I wash my money. And that’s how my guys are paid on the books so they can put their kids in private school and whatever bullshit they want.”
“How do you manage all that?”
“I’ve got people.”
She seemed slightly overwhelmed by that information. “Then let me rephrase my question. What’s the point in doing more when you’re already a billionaire? At what point will it be enough?”
I looked away again. “It’s not about the money, Camille.”
“Then what is it about?”
I let the silence linger even though my answer was on the tip of my tongue. “Power.”
“Doesn’t that get old?”
“Does sex get old?” I looked at her again. “Does looking out at the ocean from your terrace get old? Does flying in your private plane get old?”
She was quiet.
“No.” I answered for her.
“Regimes rise and fall every day. The Roman Empire was untouchable…and look where they are now.”
“But they’re remembered. They’re revered.”
She released a quiet sigh. “I’m sorry, Bartholomew. You won’t be mentioned in history books.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I just don’t see the point in all this, especially when you have a target on your back.”
“Anyone would be stupid to fuck with me.”
“Cauldron and Grave are powerful men, but someone crossed them.”
“We aren’t the same, sweetheart.” The comparison was borderline offensive.
“What happens when you get older? What will you have then?”
I looked at her, locking my gaze on to hers. “I didn’t invite you here to interrogate me. And I certainly didn’t invite you here to judge me.”
“I’m doing neither of those things. I just care about you.”
“Care about me?” I almost laughed because it was such a strange sentence.
“Yes.”
“I told you I don’t have friends.”
“Then what are we?”
“Business acquaintances.”
“I think we’re more than that if we’re having this conversation.”
“We aren’t having it,” I said. “You’re forcing it.”
“You never answered my question,” she said. “What will happen when you get older?”