Missing Love : Elite Men of Manhattan Series Book 4 by Missy Walker

Author:Missy Walker [Walker, Missy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-26T16:00:00+00:00

13

Olivia

Well, that was certainly not what I expected or wanted.

Until I wanted it.

More than anything, I wanted to please him like he had me. Craving to touch him, to have him in my mouth and show him I wanted him without words. Words I failed at miserably, but my actions spoke volumes.

He read my body, controlling me like a conductor with his proteges. And I let him. Unable to control myself, I submitted to him. Both my body and mind were his, and for the time we were intimate, separation blurred. I was out of my head and taken away, and from his possessive touch and throaty groans, I could tell he was too.

I’d never had the insatiable urge to please a man. But with Ari, it was different. Maybe it had to do with the awe and fire behind his eyes when he looked at me. He held that same craving so deep and desperate that I did.

And I couldn’t understand it.

Because I was affected by the man I loathed.

The man who made me flush equally with both anger and desire.

I hadn’t slept that soundly in forever. So when my alarm sounded, it scared the living daylights out of me, and I jerked upright, tossing my covers to the side with the movement.

I’d washed myself countless times in the shower, thinking incessantly and trying to make sense of what had transpired in the last twelve hours. You could eat sashimi off my foot, it was that squeaky clean.

Yet with all the thinking, it still made little sense. Ari? Me? None of it. All I knew was I was fighting a battle, one that was slipping through my fingers with each wayward glance he shot at me.

We flew through the meetings and were minutes away from the Manhattan exit when the conversation turned from the store opening to something more personal.

“Tell me about your folks,” he asked, keeping his gaze firmly ahead.

“They’re amazing. Both hard-working parents living the American Dream.”

“Only child?”

“Uh-huh.”

He turned and smiled, his boyish eyes catching a finger of light and making my breath hitch in my throat. “Same.”

“Tell me about yours?” I countered, wanting to know more about him and less him learning about my poverty-laden past.

“My mom, Deidra, and dad, Spencer, have never had to work a day in their life. Much like me in the last ten years anyway.” He looked over at me, but it didn’t feel like he was saying it out of arrogance. But he was checking in on me, searching me for a response.

“Go on,” I encouraged, holding back my normal snarky response.

He smiled. “Mom loves to cook Spanish food, and Dad builds model cars. They have a great relationship.”

“Spanish food?” I inquired.

“Don’t ask.” He laughed aloud, and my shoulders relaxed at the sound.

“Okay, so model cars?”

“Dad loves it. When they’re not living in Monte Carlo, he spends all day in his hobby room, then comes out for Mom’s amazing Spanish food at dinner.”

I watched him talk about his parents. His face radiated as he spoke of them, and it reminded me of the strong relationship I had with mine.

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