Page 22 of How to Break My Heart
Bianca’s sultry eyes gaze upward, and she gives a teasing lick of her red lips.
“Have you been a bad boy?” Her fingers trace the zipper of my suit pants before she boldly takes matters into her own hands. “You have something I want to taste.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I close my eyes to focus on the woman on her knees, ready to give me a much-needed blow job. My entire body is demanding release—every single goddamn inch of me—from the stress of the past week.
But my head is elsewhere.
I only recognized the number that texted me moments ago because Madelina sent me the contact card earlier tonight. I wasn’t expecting an unsent message, so I quickly cut to the chase, impatient as always.
Beside me on the nightstand, my phone pings again, and with an urge to satisfy my curiosity, I focus on the text on the screen.
Did Everleigh just mention another guy?
My chest tightens. Bianca is ready, mouth open wide, but suddenly I’m not in the mood. I place my hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her away.
“Look, I need to make a business call. I forgot all about it…”I try to come up with something else but fall short. “It’s to London, and with the time zone, it has to be tonight.”
Bianca furrows her brows in confusion, then releases an unflattering laugh. “You’re joking, right?”
“I don’t joke about business, Bianca,” I respond sternly.
She ignores my answer, pulling me back, then shoves her hand in my boxers. Her warm hand wraps around my shaft, yet still doesn’t arouse me like it normally would.
“Just relax. I’ll take care of you tonight,” she murmurs.
How the fuck can she take care of me when my dick went soft moments ago? I stand up, quickly reaching down to zip up my pants. “I’m serious. I need to get back to work.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Bianca stands and straightens her short black dress. “You have no idea what you’re missing, Aston.”
Undoubtedly, she would be a fantastic fuck—she’s proven it in the past. Yet, no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to focus on this woman in front of me.
Bianca turns around, her back toward me.
I cross my arms over my chest.
I’m overthinking things.
Whatever the fuck is going on in my head needs to stop right now.
As she gets closer to the door, I take large steps and manage to push the door closed before she has a chance to exit.
Then, I press her against the door and slide her dress up, desperate to shut off the noise inside my head from a ridiculous text message.
“Show me,” I demand.
I slide the Rolex onto my wrist and snap the clasps into place. The vibration of my phone prompts me to remove it from my pants pocket. My father’s name flashes on the screen, draining my will to live.
“Good morning,” I greet him formally.
“Get your ass to Cinnamon Springs this weekend for your sister’s lunch.” The command, which comes with no greeting, doesn’t surprise me at all.
Tilting my head to the left, I crack my neck to release the tension. “Firstly, Madelina hasn’t mentioned anything—”
“She hasn’t because I suggested the idea last night.” His condescending tone does nothing but bore me as I fix my tie. “In the event of marriage, it is important for two families to be introduced to each other properly, despite our past interactions.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose with irritation. “Madelina is aware of my business commitments and expects me to be in town on Tuesday.”
“And I expect you in towntomorrow morning,” he demands.
