The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3) Read Online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Miles High Club Series by T.L. Swan
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Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 135799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
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He smiles sadly. “You’re a pretty cool chick, Landon.”

“Ha.” I smirk. “You should probably leave now then, before you get the jilted-lover-psycho-smashing-up-the-office version.”

He holds his hands up and laughs as he stands. “Yeah, I’m leaving her well alone.”

He puts his hands in his expensive suit pockets, and his eyes hold mine.

I reach up onto my toes and kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

“For the record.” He twists his lips. “He’s a fucking idiot.”

I smile, grateful for his kindness. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I lie in the darkness in my bed; the world is a dark and lonely place.

I feel like this hurt is just going on and on.

I opened up and told Daniel and Rebecca everything tonight and it’s torn down the last of my defenses.

Now that I don’t have to act brave, I’m falling apart. I can’t stop crying.

Howling-to-the-moon heartbreak, where he’s not coming back and I feel like my whole future has been snatched from my grasp. The life I saw us having, living at Enchanted, his animals, the laughing and loving, his family . . . all gone.

My eyes are red and swollen and I’ve taken three showers tonight to try and make me feel better.

I’m sobbing, my chest wracked, and for the life of me, I can’t stop it. To the point that I think I’m going to have to take a sleeping tablet or something to calm myself down.

I remember this kind of grief all too well.

I feel the bed dip and Daniel crawls in behind me; he’s wearing boxer shorts and is bare-chested. “Baby,” he whispers as he pulls me close.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur.

He tightens his grip and I close my eyes, grateful for the warmth.

For a long time, he holds me as I cry, and every now and then he pushes the hair back from my forehead as he looks down at me. “Tell me how to make this better?” he whispers, his body snug up against mine.

“You can’t.”

He wipes my tears and holds me. He’s warm and big and a closeness runs between us. My head is on his chest and his arms are tight around me; he kisses my temple and I feel something move down below.

I frown.

He holds me closer and I feel it again.

What?

He’s hard.

“Let me make you better, baby,” he whispers.

I stare up at him in the darkness.

“Let me take away your pain for a little while.”

I frown again and he takes my hand and runs it down over his rippled abs, and lower into his shorts.

We stare at each other, my breath catches, and I feel his pubic hair and then hard cock; my hand closes around it instinctively.

“Let me love you,” he whispers. He kisses me softly and I screw up my face against his.

He kisses me again and rolls me onto my back as he leans over me, and I feel his body up against mine. “Stop,” I whisper. “Daniel, stop.” I sit up in a rush and pull away from him.

What the hell?

“I don’t want this; my body isn’t even mine to give to you,” I stammer in a panic. “It’s Elliot’s.”

“He’s with another woman, Kate, he’s not coming back for you. They’re probably making love right now.”

I wince as I get a visual.

“I’m trying to help you,” he whispers.

“You’re trying to sleep with me.”

“To make you forget him.”

“Please . . . don’t.”

He gets out of my bed and puts his hands on his hips. “I was trying to help you.”

I turn my back to him and stare at the wall. “I know.”

He sits on the chair in the corner. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

I nod, grateful that he isn’t leaving but he’s out of my bed. I would have never forgiven myself . . . not that it matters to anyone anyway, I guess.

But I would know.

I wasn’t lying—my body belongs to Elliot, whether he wants it or not.

I sip my coffee in a crowded café on a Sunday morning. I got up early and went to the gym; I have a chocolate muffin in front of me and I’m feeling a little better today. I had a talk with Daniel and I believe him, he was just trying to be of comfort.

And maybe on some level I should have done it, maybe it would have helped me to move on and forget him.

I hear the familiar ding of my phone and my blood runs cold.

Ed.

I ignore it for a moment, and it dings again.

I don’t want to talk to Ed, because I know he’s going to tell me about her.

I’m cutting ties with him too.

I’m sick of all the fucking lies. No more charades, it’s obvious I can’t handle this game.

It dings again and I close my eyes.

Go away.

With a shaky hand I lift my coffee to my mouth. It dings again.

Fuck it.



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