Cherry Lover Read online Victoria Quinn (Cherry #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Series by Victoria Quinn
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
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So I bought a bottle of wine and sat on the kitchen counter as I drank it without a glass. I was still in the same clothes I wore the night before. I had my makeup and hair supplies in the bathroom because they were generous enough to leave those behind. I was able to take a shower and clean myself up before I pulled on the only outfit I had.

I should start moving on with my life by going shopping, but I was too depressed. I was already at rock-bottom, behaving like a prostitute just to clear my debt. And then, just when things started to get a little better, some assholes took all my shit. Now I would need money or donations to replace all of it.

Despite the sadness, there were still some things to be grateful for. For instance, I had a good job that paid well enough. What if I didn’t have that? I really would have to be a prostitute. I also had my loans cleared, so now I was debt-free. That left a lot more money in my pocket. I also had my health.

So, it wasn’t all bad…at least that’s what I told myself.

My phone started to ring, and I noticed the battery was low. Of course, the jerks took my iPhone charger too…so I didn’t even have that. I would have to make this conversation quick. But when I noticed Slate’s name, I almost didn’t answer.

I didn’t want him to know what happened.

He would get pissed off and tell me he had been right all along—that I needed to move.

I hated it when he was right.

I sighed before I took the call. “Hi.”

“Hey, Cherry.”

“So, we’re sticking with the nickname?”

“Do you not like it?”

I liked sweetheart, but that was a meaningless endearment, something you could say to a little girl. At least Cherry was more personal, more intimate. “No…I didn’t say that.”

“So, you do like it?”

“Maybe…”

He chuckled. “Want to have dinner with me tonight, Cherry?”

I certainly didn’t want to sit in this apartment all night and feel sorry for myself. But I also didn’t want to go out to dinner in the same outfit I wore yesterday. Slate would scream at me right in front of all the other patrons. “Can we eat at your place?”

“That’s fine with me—as long as you’re naked.”

It was the one time where that request actually worked in my favor. “I can do that.”

He paused at the sound of my compliance, because it was so unusual. “You’re in a good mood today.”

Or the complete opposite. “When do you want me to be there?”

“You can come by whenever. I just got out of the shower.”

“Ooh…I’ll hurry, then.”

I was anxious to get to his place just so I had a comfortable place to sit. I also didn’t have to worry about those assholes watching me at his place. No one could bother me or rob me while I was there. I could also sleep that night without being scared.

I stepped out of the elevator and noticed him carrying the dishes to the table.

“You’re right on time.”

“Or you knew I was coming in the elevator.”

He smiled then walked up to me to kiss me. His hand moved into my hair, and he gave me a tender embrace, a loving kiss, full of affection, the kind of kiss I needed after the shitty day I’d had.

He almost made me forget about it entirely.

When he pulled away, he noticed my outfit. “One, you aren’t naked. And two, you’re wearing the same outfit as before.”

I didn’t want to lie to him, but I also didn’t want to tell him the truth. I wished I could just say nothing and deflect the conversation entirely.

When I didn’t answer, his eyes narrowed.

“All my clothes are in the wash.”

“At the laundry facility at your apartment? You’re just going to leave them there?”

“The machine is broken, but the super can’t fix it until tomorrow. So my clothes are locked in there.”

His suspicion didn’t subside. “And you’re telling me all of your clothes are in the washer? I’ve seen your closet. It’s huge.”

Being the recipient of that hostile gaze told me I wasn’t getting out of this alive. “What? I like this outfit. I can’t wear it again?”

Like a volcano, he erupted—full of ash and fire. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” He crowded me, treating me like a mugger on the street that tried to rob him at gunpoint. Like I was his enemy, he forced me back, vicious and threatening. It was the scariest side of him I’d ever seen. With flared nostrils and wide eyes, he didn’t act like I was the woman in his bed every night. “People don’t lie to me because they know they can’t get away with it. You aren’t special. Now fucking tell me the truth.”


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