Dirty Billionaire (The Dirty Billionaire Trilogy, #1)

by Meghan March

For those who dream so big, they scare themselves. Don’t ever stop.

“See something you like?” My cheeks heat with a furious blush, and I raise my gaze to his amused one. Oh my God. He caught me ogling his package. Fail, Holly! Fail. “Uh . . .” “Don’t worry. I don’t mind.”

I don’t know who this senseless creature is who’s begging a man to keep pouring whiskey on her lady bits, but I honestly don’t care.

This seems like it could wreak havoc on her pH balance….

She doesn’t even realize it, but this nameless woman just brought me to my knees. And I can’t fucking wait to experience it all over again.

I’ve made myself comfortable in a leather wingback chair in Room 1919 of the Plaza, enjoying three fingers of Bushmills while I wait for my newest acquisition to arrive. Because in all honesty, at this point, that’s exactly what she is. The latest toy to add to my collection.

………how charming

I slide off the seat and drop to my knees. Creighton stares down at me, and that dang eyebrow of his rises. “You praying, Holly?”

This man owns every one of my senses, and I lose myself to his forbidden touches as he forces me higher and higher until I shatter.

“Just give me a chance to show you what I mean, Holly. I don’t want a docile little Barbie doll. I still want your spark and your fire. I don’t want to tame it; I just want to guide it. And at the same time, I’ll take every burden that’s been weighing you down, and make them mine.”

“There are no other men when it comes to you, do you understand me, Holly? None. You belong to me.” Whoa. Holy possessive alpha-male alert, Batman.