Paris Pleasure_Billionaire Club Romance_Paris Trilogy 1 by Lila Dubois

Author:Lila Dubois [Dubois, Lila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07V9MRLDW
Published: 2019-07-23T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

V -

I’ve missed sleeping beside you.

I miss you.

We’ll talk about that later, but now it’s time to play. Once you leave this room, you’re mine. If you don’t want to play, or have questions about the contract, call Nerio, before you walk out the door.

I left what you’re allowed to wear on the couch.

Love,

S

* * *

Love. He signed it love. That arrogant, wonderful son of a bitch. She pressed the note to her chest, waiting for the sadness and the worry and the dread she’d felt yesterday to resurface. She knew exactly how dangerous it was to get involved with Solomon. How much he could hurt her.

Trying to avoid that pain was why she’d gone to his island—hoping if she found closure, she wouldn’t spend years suffering from heartache. Desperation to get away before she crumbled was why she called for a helicopter.

The feelings didn’t come. It was almost as if the exhaustion she’d felt yesterday, followed by a night sleeping in his arms, had muted everything.

Or maybe seeing those four little letters changed things. He still loved her. Or loved her again.

Buoyed by some unknown combination of well rested, happy, and hopeful, Vivienne went into the bathroom. She found a stock of hygiene products, including a razor. A quick shower, without bothering to wash her hair, and she was ready. She’d dropped her bag when Nerio grabbed her, so there wasn’t much she could do to prep. She applied lotion everywhere, and touched up her hair with the comb, taming flyaways. All the exposure to salt air had given it a nice wave. Normally, she wouldn’t have dared go anywhere without at least a layer of tinted moisturizer and mascara on, but she was going to be more than physically naked with Solomon. She was going to be emotionally naked too. That’s what he could give her—complete release. That sense of being taken care of and known.

Most of all, he loved her. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t wearing makeup.

He loved you before. That wasn’t enough. And he might love you, but does he like you, respect you? He thinks you’re weak.

She winced, the note, which she’d picked up off the vanity, crumpling in her hand. Vivienne took those thoughts, locked them into a little box, and shoved it away at the back of her mind. She was sure they’d return during one of her early-morning anxiety attacks, but for now she reclaimed the calm she’d felt since the moment she woke up to his voice and kiss, his lingering scent on the mattress beside her.

Naked, she went in search of the clothing she was allowed to wear. With each step she took, heat built within her—it was the warmth of anticipation, and the slow burn of arousal. She wondered if he’d purposely used those words “allowed to wear” because he knew they would make her hot. Maybe he used them because he was already thinking and speaking like a Dom.

Like her Dom.

Her Master.

The tube dress was made of glossy black latex.

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