Dirty Desires Read online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
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My smile widens. She's adorable. How can a badarse in combat boots—the smartest person I've ever met—be so goddamn adorable?

It's doing things to me. Things inappropriate for this venue.

Ian: I would recommend myself. But it's a conflict of interest.

Eve: How can I trust anyone you recommend? It could be a setup.

Ian: Possible.

Eve: If it is a fake identity, it's elaborate. There are plenty of news articles about you. A few mention your time in the military. You were a pilot.

Ian: Still am.

Eve: Really?

Ian: I can fly you somewhere.

Eve: Where?

Ian: Anywhere you need a good view. I fly helicopters.

Eve: What does a helicopter pilot do in New York City?

Ian: Very little. For its size, the city lacks helipads. But I volunteer with a local hospital once a week.

Eve: What do you do for them?

Ian: Mostly organ transfers. Some med-vac.

Eve: A philanthropist.

Ian: Do I need pure intentions for that?

Eve: What are your intentions?

Ian: I've been called an adrenaline junkie.

By my ex-wife. But no sense in bringing her up. It's not time to kill the mood.

Eve: What are your intentions with me?

Ian: I only send dirty texts if I'm sure a woman wants them.

Eve: You know what I mean.

Ian: I'm not sure I do.

Eve: Why are you offering to buy my virginity? You're a rich man. Clearly handsome. Very successful. And very tall. How tall are you anyway?

Ian: I suppose you want it in feet?

Eve: I can convert centimeters on my phone.

Ian: Other yanks have asked. Six three.

Eve: Yanks? Do you say that to make a point?

Ian: Usually. In other parts of the world, we don't see how you can claim the title America when you're in the middle of the Americas.

Eve: It's a bit myopic.

Ian: It is.

Eve: You like to rile people.

Ian: Maybe.

Eve: Is that it? You're trying to rile someone?

Ian: No. I don't joke about money. I made you an offer. I meant it.

Eve: But why? You don't seem to need help with women. You've been photographed with lots. Women more beautiful than I am. More successful.

Ian: I don't know any women more beautiful than you are.

Eve: That sounds like a line.

Ian: It's the truth.

Eve: It's not. I'm cute, sure. And, yes, I have a look. But I'm not beautiful. I'm not a New York ten.

Ian: That's an awfully conventional lens for you, Eve.

Eve: Because of the hair?

Ian: You have a large tattoo from The Handmaid's Tale on your arm.

Eve: And the hair?

Ian: I like your hair.

Eve: Got a thing for mermaids?

Ian: I can't make a mermaid come.

Eve: Oh.

Ian: That's my intention. To make you come.

Eve: That's it?

Ian: Eve, you're determined to hurt my feelings, aren't you?

Eve: Uh-huh.

Ian: What else is there?

Eve: Is that all you want from me?

Ian: Meet me somewhere. This will be easier in person.

Eve: I have work tonight.

Ian: You don't have to go.

Eve: I do. I have to fill the fridge somehow.

Ian: What are you doing right now?

Eve: It's barely nine.

Ian: And?

Eve: I'm drinking tea and eating oatmeal. Like a normal person. Are you between helicopter missions? Or maybe some sort of covert operation?

Ian: The gym in my building.

Eve: How normal. I can't see that.

Ian: Picture me naked. It might help.

Eve: That would be more fun somewhere else.

She's full on flirting with me. I don't know what to make of it. Of her.

Ian: Somewhere quiet. My office will be empty. Or my apartment.

Eve: Your apartment?

Ian: It's not wise to go to a stranger's apartment, I know. That's why I suggested the office.

Eve: Or you're afraid of me.

Ian: Terrified.

Eve: The office is downtown?

Ian: Yes.

Eve: Let me guess. You live on the Upper East Side?

Ian: I can't give away that information.

Eve: But you'll send me the address?

Ian: A driver.

Eve: I really am a subway girl.

Ian: Because you haven't been in the back of a limo.

Eve: Even so.

Ian: What if I insist?

Eve: I don't think you will.

She's right. I grew up in London without a penny. The Underground was a luxury. Cars aren't a big part of my life.

I don't have a car. Or a driver.

A service? Sure. I can hire a limo anytime, day or night.

I prefer to send women home in a car. Usually, they're too exhausted to remember their fucking subway stop.

Eve isn't there yet. She's smart to insist on riding herself.

She's careful.

I appreciate it. Even if it's making this harder.

Ian: The office then. One o'clock. Unless you want to call into work.

Eve: One it is.

Ian: I'll see you then.

I send her the address. Finish another set. Wipe my brow.

It's not the workout making me sweat. It's her.

In less than three hours, I need to convince Eve Miller to give up on finding a higher bidder.

No, I need more than that.

I need her to choose me.

Chapter Eleven

Ian

I check the floor one more time. No one is here. My office is clean. The kitchen is stocked.

Tea, tonic water, almond milk—whatever she wants, I have it.


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