The Owner (Dalvegan Dragons #1) Read Online Xavier Neal

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Dalvegan Dragons Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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“You need to come with a fucking sign.”

“And you need to come from a good bloody dicking.”

“Something no woman will ever call you for.”

“How would you know? Your android operating system doesn’t allow you to experience actual human emotions.”

“Whistle blown,” I playfully inject before having another sip of my drink. “Matching penalties on the play.”

Both gag at the hockey reference which successfully prevents their squabbling from momentarily continuing.

Which is ideal considering how hard my brain is twerking against my skull.

I can’t get this fucked up again.

Ever.

And I know I say this shit every time I party a little too hard, but I really mean it this time.

“Found it!” Margot victoriously announces upon the discovery of my cell. She tucks the device into her back pocket and motions a hand towards the door. “We can go now.”

“What about my-”

“Your wallet has been with me since we boarded the flight here. Gonna guess you used your name or your phone to pay for shit last night.”

“You guess correctly, demon from the Black Lagoon.” Winslow’s reassurance precedes his follow up interrogation my direction. “However, where exactly are you going now?”

“Home.” I unbecomingly shove the last of the treat in my mouth. “TV interview at two.”

“Surprise?”

“Ambush.”

“Channel?”

“STN.”

“Shit. Is it with Florence?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I’ll make sure we watch. Do everything possible to support you from here.” Winslow mischievously grins. “Afterall, the suite is still ours for one more night, yes?”

“Yes.” Grabbing another donut enroute to exiting is done in tandem with me snickering. “And yes, you can continue to order room service and whatever else. Just charge it to the room.”

“You know,” Margot bitterly grins on her way to the door, “like the parasite you are.”

His eyes narrow to hard slits as his mouth lowers to unleash a shot back; however, I quickly intervene, not needing another verbal brawl to bruise my brain before takeoff. “Tell,” my pastry wielding hand gestures the direction of the bedroom, “him that I’m sorry I had to bail but last night was fun.”

“Was it?”

I don’t know.

Probably?

Most…likely?

Shit, I really gotta figure out what happened.

“And tell him thanks again for the mood ring. I’m assuming he bought it since I would never buy something this godawful for myself.”

“I have seen your collection of hockey themed tank tops, so I know that’s not true.”

Flashing him my middle finger receives a small chuckle.

“And just to be clear…” Winslow arrogantly smirks once more. “Who is him?”

“You know who him is.”

“Yes, I do; however, I do not think you do.”

“It’s a good thing no one cares what you think,” my assistant bites prior to pushing me out the door. “Move it, Hennington. We have a shit ton of information to review and not enough time to get through the subpoints that would make me feel more comfortable about having a microphone shoved in your face.”

“Makes sense considering you already have a microphone shoved up your-” the end of Winslow’s snide comment is cut off by the door shutting behind us.

Jamming more of the pastry into my face on our way to the elevator at the end of the hall is accompanied by what has to be one of my least favorite sounds on the entire fucking planet. The increments of my life broken down by the hour and delivered in what can only be described as a Mary Poppins tune naturally floods my veins with new rivers of irritation and increases the throbbing in my head that can fuck off whenever it’s ready. Our journey from the penthouse suite to the sidewalk where I expect to wait for a car passes in a dreadfully slow fashion yet, our arrival outside where there’s already a vehicle waiting prompts my brow to furrow in confusion.

I shoot my perplexed stare her direction. “How is there already an SUV waiting for us?”

“Same way there were clothes and coffee waiting for you when I woke you up.” Margot extends an open palm my direction to present me with two tablets to help with the pain. “I’m amazing.”

Procuring the medication is instantly followed by plunking it in my mouth. “Was that ever up for negotiation?”

She happily hums and motions her hand the direction of the man opening the backseat door. I swallow the pills with a sip of coffee, thank him for the action, and slide inside all the way over to allow room for her to sit beside me.

Once the door is shut and my beverage is wedged nicely between my legs, my cell is finally delivered back into my custody on a crooked grin. “I’ve already done a social media check from my end and discovered no incredulous photos have been shared from your accounts; however, that doesn’t mean they don’t exist or don’t need deleting.”

Seeing her point inspires a quick unlocking of my device which reveals a new background photo I don’t remember taking.



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