Page 35 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire
“Did somebody bother you?” Idiots sometimes became obsessed with the Ashford name. They could have seen her with me and decided to harass her.
She shot me an icy glare, then let out a sardonic breath. “Yes, somebody bothered me. Just like you’re bothering me now. Last night was fun.” Ouch. I sensed a but coming. “But today’s a new day, and I have realized my mistake. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a shit ton of work to do.”
“Then I’ll wait and take you to dinner later.” She blinked, and I thought maybe my English didn’t come through well. “Like on a date,” I added in French.
“I’m not dating you.” She practically snarled the words.
“Why not?”
“Because touching you is a plague I can’t survive.” Another wave of anger crashed over me at her words.
Fuck, why did my hand shake? It never shook. I never lost my cool. Worry swarmed through me, building and building.
“Fine, then be my whore,” I lashed out, my words calmer than my body. She fixed her eyes—full of fury like she was a woman scorned—on me, and I didn’t like what lingered in them. “So I can get you out of my system.”
“Hard pass. I have better men to whore myself to.” Jealousy slithered through me. I never cared whether a woman stayed or went. Yet with her, I did. I wanted her to stay. I wanted her to want me with the same intensity as I felt. “Now get out.” Her words were calm, detached, but her eyes drowned with anger. “Or I’ll have you escorted out.”
“I dare you,” I hissed, pulling her back so we were nose to nose. “Have them escort me out and the entire hospital will know we slept together.”
She was petite, barely pushing five foot four, but her personality made her my equal. It gave her another foot at least, letting her stand as tall as I was. The same attraction from yesterday sizzled, leaving me confused. Why was she fighting it?
Her eyes dropped to my lips, then flicked up, locking with my gaze.
“Goodbye, Mr. Ashford. Let’s never cross paths again.” Then, without a warning, she yanked her hand out of my grip and rushed through the door.
Touching you is a plague I can’t survive.
The words pounded against my skull as she walked away from me, leaving me to stand with my heart in my throat. My chest twisted.
I stared at the door she disappeared through—for seconds, minutes, maybe hours—confused as fuck at what just happened.
Did I just get dumped by a woman for the first time in my life?
My pulse beat, hard and fast. Angry. So full of emotions that it suffocated me.
Rather than heading straight back to my yacht, I detoured to the liquor store and bought out the store, even though I had a fully stocked bar on my yacht. I got drunk on the second floor of my yacht, staring at the fish overboard. The ugly fish heads stared up at me, mocking my pitiful love affair, which also had to be the shortest love affair in history.
Sitting under the warm sun, I took a swig from the bottle of vodka, and for some dumb reason, I could almost hear her voice.Stay out of the sun.
So I took another gulp. And another. Until I could no longer hear her voice. The responsible older brother was gone. The head of the Ashford family had fallen so far, he might even supersede his father’s shame.
Be my whore.
Fuck, did I really say that?
I deserved to go down in flames for being such a dick to her. She didn’t deserve it. Except, I couldn’t understand what happened for her to change so much? To be so cold and impersonal. So fucking angry.
Maybe someone hurt her? Fuck, was it me?
A violent shudder ran through me.No, no, no.
I tilted my head and downed the rest of the strong, insipid alcohol that was sure to give me a hell of a headache tomorrow. I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted to wipe my mind clear. Forget everything. Last night. That damn hospital. Her. Everything. My whole fucking life.
Touching you is a plague I can’t survive.I wanted to forget her words. I needed to forgether.
Pushing my hand through my hair, I tugged on the short strands.
“Fuck,” I mumbled. Even that reminded me of her. The way her delicate fingers clutched my hair as I ate her out. The way she moaned my name. Screamed it, even. I closed my eyes and let oblivion take over. Unfortunately, it only made matters worse. Images of Odette bending over the sofa and giving me a perfect view of her ass. The way she spread her thighs for me, moaning my name as I fucked her so hard that fucking sofa skidded over the floor.
