Sweetheart – The Morgans of New York Read Online Deborah Bladon

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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Dudley whines as we slow to wait for a light.

“Your dog is adorable.”

I turn to the right to find a pretty redhead standing beside me.

“What’s her name?” she asks with a tilt of her head.

“His name is Dudley,” I tell her.

“Mine is Tammie with an e.” She smiles.

I nod. “Good to know.”

She glances toward the street ahead of us. “I live close. My cat likes new friends. Do you want to bring Dudley to meet her?”

I catch her eye. She’s offering herself on a silver platter. My dick could own my time for the rest of the night too.

But that’s not what I want.

“Not tonight.” I smile.

She shrugs. “If you live around here, keep an eye out for me. I’m hard to miss, and my offer has no expiry date.”

“Will do,” I say, even though I have no intention of ever crawling into her bed. “Have a good night, Tammie.”

“You too,” she says before pausing as if she’s waiting for me to offer my name to her.

She doesn’t need to know it, so I take off to cross the street the second the light changes.

I may regret not following her home, but I know I won’t regret going back to Denia’s penthouse since Sinclair is there. Even if she doesn’t say another word to me tonight, I’ll fall asleep knowing she’s across the hall. For now, that feels like enough.

I debate knocking on the door to the guestroom that Sinclair is staying in.

It’s late.

It’s been more than three hours since I took Dudley for his first walk of the night. When we got back, he curled up in Denia’s chair, but as soon as he woke up, he wanted in Sinclair’s room.

I opted to take him for another walk. That one lasted more than an hour, and when we got back, I tried to get him into my bedroom, but he wasn’t having any of it.

Now, he’s sitting outside Sinclair’s door with his big brown eyes glued to my face while he whines.

I have no fucking idea if he sleeps with her. I haven’t bothered to check that out since we’ve been living together, but judging by his mood, he’ll pull this mopey act until he is granted entrance to her room.

I glance down at my sweatpants.

I should tug on a T-shirt, but Sinclair has already seen me naked from the waist up, and I’m ready to hit the hay once I get her dog into her room.

I knock softly, stepping back to see if any light streams out from the crack under the door.

Silence and darkness greet me.

Dudley ups the ante by tossing a small bark into the mix.

I shoot him a look, but he ignores me in favor of pawing at the door.

I knock again, slightly louder this time.

I know Sinclair, and being jarred awake will send her into a panic. I witnessed that firsthand when she fell asleep on my shoulder during a study session in high school.

My phone rang. She reacted by flailing her arms in the air, and I ended up with a black eye.

Since I don’t need an unwanted shiner, I take a new approach.

I reach down and circle the doorknob with my hand. It may not be the right thing to do, but I’m tired, and listening to this Yorkie whimper the night away, is not what I need.

I crack the door open.

Before I can get a grip on Dudley, he races into the darkness of the room.

A crash follows.

“Shit,” I whisper. “What the fuck just happened?”

“I’m armed and dangerous,” Sinclair calls out in one hell of a sexy voice. “You don’t want to mess with me.”

My eyes adjust enough that I can see an outline of her as she scrambles out of bed.

Thank Christ that Denia never invested in darkening blinds for this room. Sheer curtains shield the view of Manhattan, but that’s not what I’m looking at.

I can’t tear my gaze away from Sinclair.

She’s nude.

I can only see her silhouette. As she turns to the side to reach for something off the bed, I catch sight of the curve of her hips, and the flat plane of her stomach before my eyes rest on the fullness of her breasts.

I should look away. I know I should, but I’m mesmerized.

Suddenly, she turns her back to me just as she covers her body with a short robe.

“Jameson?” she calls out. “Is that you? Tell me it’s you.”

I hear the tremor of fear in her voice. I can tell that I startled her.

“It’s me,” I say. “I was just letting Dudley into your room for the night.”

“You didn’t…you can’t…” She stumbles over the words as she takes a step toward where I’m standing. “You can’t see me, can you?”

“It’s dark,” I say to deflect. “Dudley ran into something. I heard a crash.”

The lamp on the nightstand turns on. The light bathes her in a soft glow.



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