Savage Queen: A Billionaire Enemies to Lovers Romance Novella (Oakwood Boys Book 1) by C.L. Cruz

Savage Queen: A Billionaire Enemies to Lovers Romance Novella (Oakwood Boys Book 1) by C.L. Cruz

Author:C.L. Cruz [Cruz, C.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-06T16:00:00+00:00


♦ ♦ ♦

Losev’s house is in a high-rise building on the west side of downtown Oakwood Park. We park in the underground garage and he leads me in through the opulent, marble-floored lobby. The doorman already has our pizza and hands it over as we’re waiting for the elevator. I take one look at it and recognize the box.

“Is that from Luigi’s?”

“Is there any other pizza?” Losev asks.

I laugh. Of course, there are hundreds of pizza places in Oakwood City, but Luigi’s has always been my favorite. He pops open the box and reveals a traditional pizza with prosciutto, large chunks of mozzarella, and fresh herbs. It smells divine. I don’t know which is more mouth-watering—the delicious pizza or the shirtless man holding it.

The elevator takes us up to the top floor, opening on a gray and white lobby. Beyond it is a pristine living room with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the rounded tops of green trees in the park and the skyscrapers of downtown. It’s a view fit for a king…or a queen. I love my place on River Street, but someday I’ll be able to invest in a place like this. It’s important to keep that upward momentum, to always have something bigger and better to strive for, to never settle.

He urges me forward with a hand on my back, and I step further into the living room, noting a hallway to the right that must lead to the bedroom. To the left is an open kitchen with white cabinets, gray countertops, and stainless-steel appliances. Losev gathers plates and two beers and then opens a sliding glass door.

“Would you like to eat on the balcony?” he asks.

“It’s going to storm soon,” I say, but I can’t resist the desire to get closer to the view. Putting my purse on one of the counters, I follow him outside.

He places the pizza box on a low patio table and lights a citronella candle nearby. I lean against the glass panel railing and take in the view. The people below us are as small as ants, and the dark, rolling clouds seem close enough to touch.

“How do you not just spend all day out here?” I ask him.

He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his nearness even before he touches me. Slowly, his hands grip the railing on either side of me and his lips brush against the sensitive place where my neck meets my shoulder. Electricity spreads like lightning down my spine.

“Because I don’t have anyone to share the view with,” he says.

I let out a breathy sigh before saying, “You don’t seem like the type to share.”

“You’re right,” his lips whisper against my ear. “What’s mine is mine.”

I turn my head, my lips feather-light against his. “You don’t own me.”

He doesn’t deign to respond. Instead, he slides his tongue over my lips and then presses it inside. The kiss is slow and languid. His hands that had me trapped against the railing begin to caress my body, one



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