Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Emerson has a decade more on the clock than the women I had Kolya remove from the premises, rejecting their offers to take care of the bulge that refused to settle even after I learned I was being led by my dick, but she is a trillion times more stunning.
I know that.
Emerson knows that.
And so the fuck does every pair of male eyes stalking her arrival.
I stop collecting names when a deep voice on my right says, “Please, allow me.”
A server dressed in black slacks and a white button-up shirt rushes over to pull out Emerson’s chair. He blushes when she rewards his chivalry with a smile, like he’s unaccustomed to praise.
That isn’t surprising. My grandfather was a tyrant. He never gave praise, not even to the people who shared his blood.
The reminder would usually see me pulling on the reins, but the server’s reaction to Emerson’s racy little number is as readable as the flight deck crew member’s interest at the airstrip.
He wants to fuck her.
He wants to bed my wife.
Over my dead body, fuckface.
With my menu dumped, I scald the server with a glare hot enough to deviate his focus off Emerson’s tits and warn a handful of others surrounding us that I will tolerate most mistakes, but this, blatantly disrespecting me in my home by fawning over my wife, is the quickest way to get fired.
I was a jealous, neurotic fuck when we dated. I can only see it worsening now that Emerson finally has my last name, and I showcase my assumption in the nastiest way possible.
“While you were getting ready—”
“Ready?” Emerson interrupts, her brow cocked. “Do you mean when I had to take care of business myself because you left me hanging like you’re no longer capable of pleasing a woman?”
The snickers from our staff taper to silence when my narrowed gaze shoots around the room.
They don’t know me, so they have no clue I’m the cruisy, playful Dokovic heir. As far as they know, I’m as ruthless as Andrik and as heartless as my father.
There’s only one person who knows differently. It is the same person attempting to goad me into making another mistake because she knows there’s no possibility I will walk away twice.
Getting my dick sucked was satisfying as fuck, but it is the bottom of the barrel compared to Emerson’s many other skills.
Bedding her is the equivalent of bedding a goddess—incomparable.
With the dining room silent, I try again. “While you were getting ready, I made some adjustments to our marriage contract.”
Emerson tries to interrupt me again, so I speak faster, foiling both her attempt and Kolya’s huffed admission that he has caught me in a lie with words.
I’ve done nothing in the past three hours but fight the urge to return to Emerson’s room and finish what she started. She doesn’t know that, though, and I’m too pissed she tried to play me for a fool—again—to act otherwise.
“All skirts or dresses you wear must have knee length or longer hems. Choose flats instead of stilettos. If you can’t abide by that term because of budget constraints, go back to term one and scratch out knee length. Chiffon, lace, or any other material incapable of keeping your tits concealed are now banned.”
Emerson’s mouth falls open more the longer I speak.
I get off on her shocked silence.
I’m the first to admit that Emerson ruled the roost during our tumultuous three years. What she said went. No questions asked.
The change-up is addictive, and I get lost in the power trip as I am sure she did when I handed her the keys to the kingdom the first time she raked her teeth over my knob.
“If you flirt with another man in my presence, I will permanently remove him from your life.”
I flick my eyes to Kolya before slowly shifting them to the server, who looks suddenly nervous.
“You’re insane,” Emerson snarls as Kolya removes the server from the dining room with two clicks of his fingers. “He was doing his job!”
Her reply reminds me of how fast my trust dwindled when she left me at the altar looking like a fool, and when she peered up at me after swallowing my release like she was hungry for my cum.
My “spare” title didn’t shunt me from the family as much as my “inability to control my woman.” My father and grandfather treated me like a leper for years after Emerson dumped me.
I refuse to step into those shoes again.
“Speaking of jobs…” I wait for Emerson’s eyes to return to my face before saying, “You no longer have one. If I can’t trust you not to flirt with members of our staff in front of me, I don’t trust—”
“You don’t trust me at all. Right? That’s pretty much what you insinuated earlier.”
When I nod, stupidly putting my head on the guillotine block, Emerson’s cheeks redden so fast that her face competes with the coloring of the wine a female waiter fills her glass with.