Page 105 of Fifth Avenue Devil

“I love you too, babe. Forever and ever.”

My Kitten is all grown up and now she’s a lioness.

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Thank you so much for being a part of Nate and Annalise’s romance! I’m so grateful to have a romance reader like you! As a special token of my gratitude, I’ve written a bonus epilogue with your favorite characters – Nate & Annalise. Read it here.

I must admit, I have really enjoyed writing this series. Billionaire romance is my number one love, but forbidden is a close second. I’m over the moon to write some tropes and stories that I’ve been longing to write for years. Get ready for me to weave a web about office romances, one night stands, guardians and wards, total Casanovas, and more!

The Fordham siblings each deserve a happily ever after!Cash and Scarlet will be the next to get a spicy, swoony love story. You can turn the page to get a taste of what is in store for them in Fifth Avenue Romeo!

Forty

Cash

The sun glints off the Hudson River. The sleek hull of my yacht slices through the choppy water. I stand at the helm, navigating smoothly. Seven other boats are racing against me, but I don’t look back to see where they are.

The key to winning anything in life is confidence. My pulse pounds in my ears. A sharp wind rips at my jacket and tousles my dark hair. With the finish line in sight, I have every assurance that I will finish this race first.

I lean forward as I jet across the finish line. Slowing my boat so as not to make any wake, I look left and right. At my yacht club, only twenty yards away, the crowd applauds. I finished ahead of the rest of the yachts, which are just now clearing the finish line in one contentious clump.

My heart pounds with exhilaration. A grin splits my face. I've clinched the solo captain's pennant for the third year running. Even after a decade as a billionaire CEO, the thrill of victory never gets old.

I do a celebratory lap, spinning the wheel and turning the boat in a wide circle. Showboating is kind of mything. As I guide my boat to the pier, I spot my friends Jack and Tom tying up their vessels.

"Well, if it isn't the man himself," Jack calls out with a smirk. "Congrats on the win, you jerk."

I flash him a cocky grin as I secure my mooring lines. "What can I say? I aim to please. And I pleaseregularly."

Tom laughs, shaking his head. "Classic Cash. You'll be playing the field and breaking hearts 'til you're old and gray."

"I would resent that remark… if it weren’t a prophecy." I shrug a shoulder.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Jack shakes his head. "You’re just a shark by nature."

I force a chuckle. I know my friends are right. It's notreallya joke. It's just the cold, hard truth about who I am.Commitmenthas never been my strong suit.

“Speaking of being a man-slut.” I offer them both a tight smile. “Let’s finish with our boats to get to the party. People are celebrating us. We need to be there.”

The reception is in full swing when we make our way to the yacht club's opulent ballroom. Servers weave through the crowd of dark suits and cocktail dresses, loaded down with trays of champagne.

I look around, assessing the situation. At any fancy dress party, there are a few types of people. Older men, drinking scotch and socializing. Some boring married guys who are glued to their spouses. My brother Nate has recently entered that category. There are handsy, drunk cougars looking for secret relationships.

Then, there is the category that I look for: available young women who are looking for the ride of their lives.

That’s where I shine. Dance a lot, drink a little, target one woman, and make her feel extra special.Boom. I’m hooking up in a coat closet by the night’s end. It’s the perfect formula.

There are only three rules I follow. No kissing, like I’m fuckingPretty Woman. No bringing them back to my penthouse. And absolutely no sleeping with the same woman twice.

No exceptions, even for girls that suck my cock so well that I can see God. I don’t want any of these girls to get the wrong idea. I’m not a nice guy.

That’s okay. Girls don’t hook up with me because I’mnice.

Looking around to assess the situation, I’m slightly put off by the crowd tonight. Tons of cougars. Lots of married guys. But there are almost no single girls. Maybe they’re all on the patio for some reason? God knows.

I spot my friend Derek sulking by the bar. His usually cheerful face is pulled into a pout. Poor guy. I didn’t see him finish, so he had to have come in toward the back of the pack. I snag two flutes of bubbly and make my way over to him.

"Drink up. You look like you could use it." I press a glass into his hand.

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