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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He brought me to the one area in this penthouse he proclaimed he never would because it was too personal.

Too intimate.

An addendum to our contract he couldn’t fathom ever making.

But he did.

Which can only mean one thing.

I’m no longer just his doll.

I’m his…I’m his everything.

Biting my bottom lip is done harshly in an attempt to still the giddiness threatening to explode out of me.

Zel, don’t wake him, or you’ll find yourself back at square one! Lasso those butterflies, girl. Get it together.

My full bladder effortlessly assists in putting my excitement in check. It only takes a brief moment to decide that I’ll full out revel in this moment while I pee in his bathroom before cuddling against him in bed where I’ll let his heartbeat lull me back to sleep. Carefully and quietly, I slide my feet off the mattress and onto the cold floor. The treacherous darkness combined with the fact I’ve never been in here before now leads to some less than silent fumbling. To my pleasant surprise, none of it manages to wake Elias up. I eventually find the wall that contains the window, part the heavy curtains a bit, and let in the necessary light to see where the hell I’m going. After glancing around the spacious area for door choices rather than admiring his very sleek, modern decor, I make an educated guess for which one will allow me to pee in a toilet instead of on his floor like an untrained Pomeranian puppy.

Post a long, bliss-filled pee in the nicest bathroom I’ve ever seen – and I’ve seen some stunning ones – I wash my hands, ditch my push-up bra, and kill the light. While sauntering back for the bed where I can now clearly see my boyfriend – my real boyfriend – stretched out with his boxer briefs hanging off his hips, an idea to reward him sexually for this sweet gesture slips into my mind. I stop four steps away from the space I just left and lift my armpit to give it a quick whiff knowing that sometimes too much wine, too much cheese, and too much perfume isn’t always a great combination.

A hum of consideration creeps into the air.

Not bad.

Could be better.

It would be amazing if I shower, use the fancy conditioner Elias loves the smell of the most, and then slip into the yellow, lacy lingerie with the heart cut out of the butt that he can never resist putting his cock in the middle of.

Tiptoeing to insure I don’t wake him up before I’m ready, I quietly dig my phone out of my clutch that’s sitting on the chaise and crack open the nearby door to peek out into the hallway. Utter silence meets my ears. Although the coast is clear, I snake a hand across my body and hurry to my room. Another giant grin appears on my face as I flood the space with lights.

Soon this won’t be my room anymore.

Soon it’ll go back to being a guestroom, and his room will be ours.

Just as I’m fitting my phone into the charging cable that’s resting on my nightstand, a text pops up.

Tomas: Let me up

Tomas: Now

“Tomas, you psycho,” I whisper to the phone, mouth stretched thin. “Why are you texting me at two in the morning?!”

Tomas: Right now

Tomas: Right fucking now

The harshness of my scolding that can only be heard by me deepens. “Why are you up texting me at two in the morning to let you into my boyfriend’s apartment?!”

Tomas: YOURE READING MY TEXT. IGNORING THEM!! Let me the fuck up!

“Ugh. Why did I give you the address that other day when I knew…I knew better? Why did I-”

Tomas: Fucking answer me!

Me: This isn’t my place. I can’t just LET YOU IN.

Tomas: Yes, you can.

Me: No. I. Can’t.

Me: And it’s the middle of the fucking night.

Me: And my boyfriend is sleeping like a NORMAL PERSON.

The faintest, exasperated breath is expelled into the air.

Me: No.

Me: Go home. I’ll call you in the morning.

“Yeah,” I murmur proudly to myself, pleased at holding my ground, “go home, big bro…Go home and rest from all the drinking or drugs or hanging out at cheap strip clubs you’ve probably been doing with those idiots you call friends.”

I successfully shove the USB cord into the socket split seconds prior to getting a new text.

Tomas: I’m fucked Zel

Tomas: Fucked!

Tomas: Fucked! Fucked! Fucked!

I don’t have a moment to decipher the madness, when my cell starts ringing and vibrating, showing our squished together faces in a picture I took right before Mom got sick. Seeing us side by side, his mischievous smile being hidden by a slice of avocado he’s using for a fake mustache to make me laugh, has me committing what I fear will be the first of many sins.

His name is the only thing that manages to make it out of my mouth, “Tomas-”



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