Tempt The Playboy Read Online Natasha Madison (Tempt #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Tempt Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
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“You are going to go in there and kill it. And if you don’t”—I shrug my shoulders—“then you don’t. What’s the worst that can happen? You fall face first in your boss’s crotch?”

She glares at me, throwing her hands in the air.

“Don’t forget, the kids are off the bus at two forty-five. Did you set an alarm?” she asks me.

“Yup, on my internal clock.” I roll my eyes at her. “Stop stressing. It’s going to be fine. You are going to be late if you don’t leave now.” I usher her out the door. “Don’t forget to play nice and make friends. Friends who are nice and hot and have big dicks!” I scream after her as she gets into her car and closes the door.

Mrs. Flounder, the next door neighbor, gives me the thumbs-up, clearly in agreement with me.

I wave at her while she backs her car up, honking once when she drives forward.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Mrs. Flounder asks me from her side of the yard.

“It sure is.” I nod, agreeing with her. “You know what would be better? Being chased by the hot UPS guy who keeps coming around. I bet you he has a huge package in that truck of his.”

Mrs. Flounder throws her head back and laughs. “Honey, if I was a little bit younger I’d definitely find out what type of services he offers.” She winks at me.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” I point at her. “I’ve got to get ready. Have a great day, Mrs. F.” I wave at her, going back inside and getting ready for the day.

Chapter Two

Noah

My feet pound the pavement as I finish off my ten-mile run. It’s something I usually do in the mornings, that’s if there isn’t anyone in my bed. I usually burn off more calories than running. I get home just as my neighbor and best friend, Austin, is rushing out of his apartment building.

“Hey.” I stop and jog in place to not cramp up.

“I’m fucking late. Why didn’t you call me?” He checks his watch while he waits for his valet driver to get there with his Porsche.

I shake my head. “I just figured you’d be busy. Didn’t you have a date last night?”

Austin and I have been best friends since we were in kindergarten. Our parents were both criminal lawyers, so we were always with our nannies. Of course, no one could top Austin’s nanny, Barbara, while I kept getting different nannies every week. Until I was old enough to fire them myself and hire whoever I wanted. By the ripe old age of fifteen, I had gone through thirty nannies, and at that point, I was hiring them to teach me everything they knew about sex. And let’s just say I was their prized student. That was until my parents found me fucking my last nanny bent over the pool table while she was wearing my mother’s shoes. We still laugh about it today; well, at least he does. I usually just sit there and groan.

“Nah, I was swamped at the office. I got to go. My new temp starts today,” he tells me, putting his Ray-Bans on.

“Dear God, how many is this now?” I ask him, knowing full well he must be on at least his tenth. “You need to chill out and just go with the flow.”

“Look who’s talking. You’re on your twentieth of the year,” he informs me, making me smile.

“Yes, but mine didn’t leave because I was an asshole.”

“You had sex with most of them and then didn’t even blink an eye.”

“Hey, no strings, it’s my policy. I’m a lone wolf,” I tell him, smiling. “Anyway, I have to go. The partners are having a meeting today. Something about a sexual harassment suit, and guess what, it wasn’t even me. Boom, motherfucker.” I make an explosion with my hands, running backward till I turn around and continue my run to my house. I live in a great neighborhood, an up and coming, chic, modern one, where all the houses are three stories high. I notice the house next to me just went on the market. I grab my phone and snap a picture and send it to Austin.

Would you be my neighbor? I press send, running up the stairs two at a time, entering my code into the lock.

He texts me back right away,

Yes, I need to get out of my place.

Then call the girl. If she’s hot, I’ll come with you to visit. Maybe she can come over, give me an estimate.

I just hit a bus.

Holy shit. Are you okay?

It’s the last text that we have. I wait a second till I don’t see the three dots with the bubbles. I whip off my shirt, which is drenched from my run. Thirty minutes later, I’m knotting the blue tie that goes with the blue custom Italian suit. Shrugging on the jacket, I run my hands through my hair, grabbing my phone and keys and heading out to my new Mercedes convertible, black with a deep red interior. I take off toward my law office. You see, I learned from my parents that criminal law is more work than I care to put in, so I’m a corporate lawyer. Nice, easy, simple, or at least most of it is.



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