Mr. Bad Intentions (Alphalicious Billionaires Boss #6) Read Online Lindsey Hart

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Alphalicious Billionaires Boss Series by Lindsey Hart
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
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“Thanks.” My sarcasm couldn’t be clearer, but the implication that my butt is less important than my front package does make me grin, though.

With a grunt, Rea grabs a handful of taco suit, pulls it away from my skin, and starts cutting. The first few snips make me nervous, but as she works through a few inches, then a few more, and the cool air of her house reaches my sticky, thousand-degree skin underneath, I let out a sigh of relief. She cuts straight from the head to the back of my butt, and when she’s done, I peel myself the rest of the way out of the costume. That was a bad wreck of a two hundred dollar outfit, but I suppose I could always get it resewn where she cut and also get the zipper fixed—dang thing. The guy who sold me the truck and the costume probably knew about the defective zipper and is having a good laugh right at this moment.

I spin around, and Rea has a good laugh too. She drops the scissors and slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god,” she giggles. “Seriously?! No!”

“Seriously, yes?” I can’t figure out why she’s laughing until I look down at where her eyes are looking. Generally, my manliness would be insulted by that laughter after the general direction of her gaze, but when I look down, I get it.

Right, so I happen to be wearing my taco boxer briefs—the ones with cute little hot sauce bottles, olives, and avocados running around. It is pretty funny, so I laugh too. I realize I’m standing here in my gotch after Rea cut a taco costume off of me, and it gets me thinking about her taco and her standing here sans-clothing, which makes the bulge in my boxers quite a bit more noticeable.

She seems frozen, so I make the first move. I step away from the taco debacle, cup Rea’s cheeks, and kiss her. I kiss her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, and back to her sensual mouth. With a small groan, I claim, plunder, and make up for a heck of a lot of lost time.

Rea lets out the softest little moans that drive me wild as she presses up against me, her hands caressing my shoulders, arms, and abs like she’s also making up for all the lost time. I know there are a lot of years we can’t get back, but I’m hoping we can tack them onto the future or spend the next, oh, rest of our lives or so, making it up.

I caress Rea’s shoulders, torso, waist, and bottom as I memorize each and every detail. Not that I didn’t know it by heart, because I did, but I just needed to remind myself—remind myself that she’s real. That she just cut me out of a taco costume. That this is the start of something good, and this time, nothing is going to ruin it or come between us. I’ll make bloody sure of that, even if I have to fight the universe itself.

“This way,” Rea gasps when I start steering her toward the kitchen. “No, left. Not right. It’s down the hall.” She giggles between kisses—kisses that grow wilder, more heated, and more frantic.

As we clear the doorway to her bedroom, she nips my bottom lip. I see nothing but the bed, which looks to be exactly the right size for what I have in mind, although anything would be the right size, including the floor, ceiling, or any other surface. I’d even consider the roof if Rea was up for it. I would just adjust the position according to pitch and how visible we’d be from the street versus how long it would take the neighbors to call the police. I’d want a good five minutes minimum, with ten or twenty or an hour being absolutely perfect before I got arrested for public indecency.

I realize I’ve stopped kissing Rea while I was thinking about the roof, but then she grabs me and devours my mouth as I slip my hands under her blouse. Impatiently, I start working on the buttons while her hands slip around to her back to undo the zipper of her skirt. She twists and shimmies to peel it down her legs as I get her blouse worked open—those damn buttons. Buttons should be illegal.

The skirt slides away, and her blouse finally gets torn off too. I look down, and holy shit tacos with a hint of ruined taco costume, the sight of those perfectly round globes straining at pink lace gets me harder than hard, and I was already beyond hard to begin with.

She gives me zero time to appreciate the wonderful sight, and instead, she wraps her arms around my neck and jumps onto me, spider monkeying her legs around my waist. As I’m slightly off-balance, I pitch forward, right onto the bed. Rea lands hard on the bed with a thump while I land on top of her. For a moment, I’m terrified I just crushed her to death, but she laughs, digs her nails into my shoulders, and kisses me so hard that I see Mars.



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