Twisted Debt (The Debt Tales #1) Read Online Xavier Neal

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: The Debt Tales Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
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It’s almost impossible to swallow my grunt of bitterness.

Do I want Zel following her passion?

Yes.

Do I want her gone for twelve hour shifts around men I know would not hesitate to have her on her knees if given the right opportunity?

Not. At. All.

Perhaps, I’ll simply buy a hospital.

Fire any and all attractive medical physicians.

“That’s admirable,” Jacob comments on a smirk that causes me to glare. “I imagine many patients in their old age would love a face like yours to greet them daily. I know I would.”

“Flirt with my doll again, and you might not live long enough to need that type of help.”

He simply brushes me off with a chortle.

Rather than retort, Zel tips her glass back to finally indulge in a taste. The instant it hits her tongue she moans in pleasure painting urges in me that I’m not sure I have the strength to resist.

She empties the glass almost instantly, prompting me to inquire, “Would you care for a full one?”

“Yes, please.”

Grateful to have the segue for an exit, I politely nod at the pair in front of us, “If you’ll excuse us. I need to get this lovely young woman a drink.”

Mandy flashes a phony smile of dismissal, and Jacob merely tips his head in acknowledgement.

Leading my date away from them and over to something she’ll actually enjoy receives me unspoken praise in the form of a long, loving stare. We mingle with other guests who are equally as obnoxious, yet her steady drinking seems to help aid in tolerating them. Wine as well as appetizers flow while the various conversations revolve around topics I don’t care to chime in on.

Not when I can enjoy the way my doll nibbles on her bottom lip in a silent request for more to drink or the way she brushes her leg against mine in gratitude for verbally recognizing how remarkable it is she’s choosing to focus on having a career instead of just a cock to take care of.

By the time we’re crawling into the backseat of our car, she’s extremely intoxicated and my patience for bullshit is non-existent.

Zel sheds her shoes, tucks her legs into the empty seat space beside her, and nuzzles her face into my chest. “Wake me up when we get home, sir?”

I drape my arm protectively around her, fingers lightly toying with her hair. “Of course, little doll.”

It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out.

Just like it didn’t take long for me to realize that the woman in my arms is something special.

That I want her to sleep just like this against me every night.

That I want her calling me sir and the penthouse to be home not for just a few more weeks but for the rest of her life.

For the first time in my life, I want more than just a doll.

I want a future.

I want forever with Zel Pierson.

Chapter Ten

Zel

All of a sudden, I’m jolted awake and thrust into a darkness so thick that my heartbeat instantly increases in tempo.

Where am I?!

Why’s it so dark?!

Why are these sheets extra soft but the mattress isn’t soft enough?!

The set of questions encourages the racing in my chest to speed up faster as I frantically begin to seek answers. Immediately, I roll over, palm instinctively stretched out in expectation of colliding with my phone on the first gentle pat yet meet hot, chiseled flesh instead. Panic has me gliding my fingers cautiously upward along the bare chest of the person beside me, and each additional caress manages to calm me back down.

God, I even know my man in the dark.

Powerful steadiness lifts my stationary palm to the most peaceful rhythm.

It lowers.

Lifts.

Lowers.

Flawlessly keeps the pattern as if even in his sleep, he somehow commands perfection from himself.

I slightly smile and shake my head slowly before letting my heart that was trying to jackhammer itself out of my chest just moments ago completely bottom out. Tingles begin at the tips of my toes and wildly multiply throughout my system. Excitement and disbelief twist and tangle during every passing breath of realization.

I’m in Elias’s bedroom.

His. Room.

A loving, appreciative sigh thoughtlessly escapes my lips.

The man I both feared and was drawn to from the moment we first met has now done the one thing I never imagined he would.

It was evident by the contract that love was not on the ritzy, billionaire-approved menu. People don’t fall in love on a ticking clock. They use those to stop love from happening. Stop themselves from becoming attached. It’s why people like him, treat people like me as objects or possessions instead of humans they might develop real feelings for.

And I understand Elias.

I understand my part in his existence.

I am his doll.

Under contract.

Owned by him.

I am not meant to be loved, only adored like a limited-edition toy you’ll play with until something better or newer comes along, yet he brought me here to his bedroom.



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