Alessandra Torre – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Alessandra Torre – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sat, 26 Aug 2023 11:52:32 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Alessandra Torre – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 A Divided Heart Read Online Alessandra Torre http://www.books2020.com/a-divided-heart-read-online-alessandra-torre Sat, 26 Aug 2023 11:52:32 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/a-divided-heart-read-online-alessandra-torre Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Suspense Authors: Alessandra Torre Advertisement

Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)

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Can you love two men at once? Is there any future in that?

Brant loves me fiercely.
A brilliant tech billionaire who has owned my heart for four years, he keeps proposing, and I keep turning him down.
I can’t marry him, not with all of the secrets between us.

Lee uses me wildly.
As grouchy as he is cocky, he's interested in getting me into his bed and little more.
There’s no reason for us to work, but I can't stay away from him.

I have to make Lee mine. If I don't, all of this will be for nothing.

Go ahead, judge me. You have no idea of the agony my heart is in.

If you think you’ve heard this story before, trust me - you haven’t.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

I watched Molly's apartment, a Mediterranean-style mud brown complex with window boxes full of hot pink hibiscus. Lee’s jeep was parked at a crooked angle in the front, a mud-spattered box of American masculinity in a neat line of Hondas, Toyotas, and Kias. Twenty-two minutes had passed since Lee had ambled down the sidewalk and into the front door, his hands dipped into ripped jean pockets, his jaw set. He’d turned the handle and stepped in as if he’d gone there a hundred times. As if he belonged there.

I tapped my pale pink nails against the gearshift. Closing my eyes, I let the air conditioner's breeze wash over me. I had a massage scheduled in an hour, so this situation needed to resolve itself soon or I'd be late for my date with Roberta's hands.

Movement in the right window of the apartment. Lee moved quickly past it, a blonde close behind, tugging on his shirt, arms gesturing wildly. I could imagine the words flying out of her mouth. Lee, don't go. Lee, it isn't what you think! I wondered if the word ‘love’ left her mouth; if their relationship had progressed to that point.

He disappeared out of sight, and I leaned forward, wishing I had a drink, something to crack open and enjoy while my hard work came to fruition. This had to work; this had to happen. She couldn't have him. He was mine.

The front door blew open and he stepped out, his steps fast as he wove between the cars and up to his Jeep. His face was tight, features hard, a look I hadn't seen on his face before but one I could embrace. Resolute. Decisive. I clenched my hands in excitement, watching as she came into view, her face blotchy, eyes wide, her mouth moving rapidly, giant breasts heaving out of the top of a skimpy blue tank top as she yelled something and grabbed at his shoulders. I wanted to roll my window down, just a peek, enough to hear this exchange, enough to savor the moment.

That's right. Watch him leave. He will no longer kiss your lips or make love to your body. He's mine, and I’m right here, ready to take your place.

I watched him get in, the door slamming hard enough to make her jump. And then, with the screech of tires—the best sound in the world, better than my fantasies—a sound of finality that left her standing in the empty parking spot, black mascara tears staining her cheeks, her scream loud enough to pass through my Mercedes’s tinted windows.

Victory is mine. I grinned, giving myself a virtual high five, and put my SUV into drive. Pulling onto the street, I headed south. Maybe after my massage, I'd swing by my fiancé's office. Drop off a sandwich for him. Celebrate my victory with the other man in my life.

Go ahead. Judge me. You have no idea what my love entails.

I love two men. I fuck two men.

If you think you've heard this story before, you haven't.

Part One

This is a love story, but not one that is easy to read. It’s dirty. It’s sexual. It is, at times, rotten. Love can bring out the worst in someone and it doesn't always offer a happy ending.

Chapter 1

My life has always had a plan. I think my parents, pre-conception, sat down and planned it out. Drilled into me with constant reminders and a follow-by-example regimen. I was a child of wealth, expected to do nothing but also everything. A 4.0 was required, though I would never hold a job. Ivy League was mandatory, but only because that was where I would meet my husband. I would not carry any additional pounds, as that would be an embarrassment, but I could not show off my figure, as that would be classless.

My life plan was simple. Earn a respectable degree while being molded into the perfect wife. Marry quickly and to someone with at least nine figures of net worth. Support my husband while pursuing my other interests, such as charity work and running my staff.

I never liked the plan and foiled it in as many passive-aggressive ways as possible. At an early age, I learned to hide treachery behind a sweet smile and innocent façade. In my parents' eyes, I was behaving and thriving. Doing my part to turn into the woman their DNA deserved. In actuality, I was lying in wait, getting my perfect deceptive ducks in a row and ready for the day that mattered: my twenty-fifth birthday.

It was ridiculous that I was getting a birthday cake, a tradition that should die off by the teenage years. Yet, here it was, topped with twenty-five candles and carried by my mother’s reedy arms. Looking at her was like staring into an image of my future, one with Botox and fillers, pinched lips, and over-plucked brows.

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Advertisement Black Lies Read Online Alessandra Torre http://www.books2020.com/black-lies-read-online-alessandra-torre Wed, 29 Sep 2021 10:33:10 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/black-lies-read-online-alessandra-torre Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Authors: Alessandra Torre Advertisement

Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Black Lies
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Alessandra Torre
Language:	English
Book Information:
Brant: Became a tech billionaire by his twentieth birthday. Has been in a relationship with me for 3 years. Has proposed 4 times. Been rejected 4 times. Lee: Cuts grass when he's not banging housewives. Good with his hands, his mouth, and his body. Has been pursued relentlessly by me for almost 2 years, whether he knows it or not. Go ahead. Judge me. You have no idea what my love entails. If you think you've heard this story before, trust me - you haven't. This is a STANDALONE full-length novel. It is not part of a series, and does not contain a cliffhanger.
Books by Author:	Alessandra Torre

Prologue

I watched Molly’s apartment, a Mediterranean-style orange townhome with window boxes full of hot pink hibiscus. His jeep sat there, a mud-spattered box of American masculinity in a sea of foreign cars. It’d been twenty-two minutes since he walked in, his hands dipped into jean pockets, his head down, steps walking without thought, as if he had walked the path a hundred times.

I tapped my nude nails against the gearshift. Closed my eyes briefly and let the air conditioner breeze wash over me. I had a massage scheduled in an hour, so this situation needed to resolve itself soon or I’d be late for my date with Roberta’s hands.

Movement, upper right apartment. Hers. A door flew open, Lee’s head moving quickly down the open hall, a blonde head close behind, tugging on his shirt, arms gesturing wildly. I could imagine the words flying out of her mouth. Lee, don’t go. Lee, it isn’t what you think! I wondered if the word ‘love’ left her mouth, if their relationship had progressed to that point.

He disappeared into the stairwell. I leaned forward, wished I had a drink, something to crack open and enjoy while my hard work came to fruition. This had to work; this had to happen. She couldn’t have him; he was mine.

His head bobbed between the cars, his face coming into view as he walked up to his jeep. Face set, features hard, a look I hadn’t seen on his face before but knew well. Resolute. Decisive. I clenched my hands in excitement, watching as her face came into view, blotchy and wide-eyed, her mouth moving rapidly, giant breasts heaving as she yelled something and grabbed at his shoulders. I wanted to roll my window down, just a peek, enough to hear this exchange, enough to savor this moment just a little bit longer.

That’s right. Turn and walk your pretty self away from this man. He will no longer touch your face. He will no longer make love to your body. He is mine. I will take your place.

I watched him get in, the door slamming hard enough to make her jump. And then, with the screech of tires—the best sound in the world, better than my fantasies—a sound of finality that left her standing in the empty parking spot, black mascara tears staining her cheeks, her scream loud enough to pass through my tinted windows.

Victory is mine. I grinned, giving myself a virtual high five, and put my Mercedes into drive. Pulling onto the street, I headed south. Maybe after my massage I’d swing by my boyfriend’s office. Drop off a sandwich for him. Celebrate my victory with the other man in my life.

Go ahead. Judge me. You have no idea what my love entails.

I love two men. I fuck two men.

If you think you’ve heard this story before, you haven’t.

This is a love story, but not one that is easy to read.

Chapter 1

My life has always had a plan. I think my parents, pre-conception, sat down and planned it out. Drilled into me with constant reminders and a follow-by-example regimen. I was a child of wealth, expected to do nothing but everything. A 4.0 was required, though I would never hold a job. Ivy League was mandatory, but only because that was where I would meet my husband. I would not carry any additional weight, as that would be an embarrassment, but could not show off my figure, as that would be classless.

The plan was simple. Earn a respectable degree while being molded into the perfect wife. Marry quickly. Support my husband while pursuing my other interests, such as charity work and running my home.

I never liked the plan. Foiled it in as many passive aggressive ways as possible. Learned at an early age to hide treachery behind a sweet smile and innocent façade. In my parents’ eyes, I was behaving. Thriving. Turning into the woman their DNA deserved. In actuality, I was lying in wait, getting my perfect black ducks in a row and ready for the day that mattered: my twenty-fifth birthday.

8 YEARS AGO

Twenty-five candles. It was ridiculous that I was getting a birthday cake; the tradition should stop in the teenage years. Yet, here it was, carried by my mother’s reedy arms. Mother, the perfect image of my future, should my future include Botox and fillers, pinched lips and over-plucked brows. I smiled because it was expected. I let her sing the song, my father’s voice falling off after the first few words, his attention caught by the ring of his phone. I smiled for the photo and blew out the candles, missing three on purpose, seeing Mother’s eyes flicker, her smile remaining fixed.

She cut the cake, the scent of Chanel No. 5 drifting over the table as she served me the smallest possible piece, a center cut, away from the decadence of an end piece. Then we ate, three of us scattered over a twelve-seat table, the scrape of silver against china the only sound in the room. Father stood first, leaving his plate, and kissed my head. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

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Advertisement Rolling the Dice Read online Alessandra Torre (All In Duet #0.5) http://www.books2020.com/rolling-the-dice-read-online-alessandra-torre Wed, 21 Mar 2018 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/rolling-the-dice-read-online-alessandra-torre Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Authors: Alessandra Torre Series: All In Duet Series by Alessandra Torre
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Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 57(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 >13

Read Online Books/Novels:	Rolling the Dice (All In Duet #0.5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Alessandra Torre
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07S7MYVRT
Book Information:
There was a reason I was handcuffed to the bed, chocolate syrup smeared over both nipples. Dario Capece was getting married, and if he thought he’d ditch me to marry some rich Vegas bitch, then he had another thing coming. I was taking my revenge in the best way possible: his best friend. Seduction was a new game for me, but thankfully, Trip Reinnet was good at reading signs and delivering orgasms. While a hurricane gathered force and moved closer, I played a risky game of love, luck and sex, with my most valuable possession up for grabs: my heart.
Books in Series:	All In Duet Series by Alessandra Torre
Books by Author:	Alessandra Torre Books

1

STEPHANIE

Let’s imagine the perfect man. Six three, with a body like The Rock, but a face that could have its own modeling career. Then let’s add in some bad boy. A background in security, and fists that knew how to protect himself. Toss in enough shady dealings to add an air of mystery and danger. Now, the kicker: a promotion that makes him your boss, a smile that reveals his playful side, and bedroom eyes that manage to unzip your dress without even trying.

I found that man. Hell, every woman in Biloxi, Mississippi found that man. Dario Capece. And we’ve all been making fools of ourselves over him for the last umpteen years.

But I had come close. SO close. Close enough that he asked me on a date. Three blissful hours. And then a second, though it hadn’t ended in the panty-ripping way I had hoped for.

Then disaster struck in the form of a leggy brunette with diamonds in her ears the size of cherries. Gwen Hawk strolled in our casino on her daddy’s arm and somehow managed, in the course of three days, to snatch Biloxi’s most eligible bachelor away.

Like AWAY, away. This afternoon he will be Vegas-bound on a private jet, heading off to run one of Gwen’s daddy’s hotels. Rumor is, he’s getting seven figures a year and all the Gwen Hawk pussy he wants.

Do I sound bitter? I might be. Just A WEE BIT. Bitter…and hell-bent on revenge, in whatever way I could get it.

Which brings us to the decidedly unperfect man.

Tripp Reinhart. Also tall. Thinner than Dario, with a different sort of beauty. He’s the scowling type, when he’s not glaring, or ignoring you all together. He grew up on the same rough streets as Dario, but it didn’t make him dangerously attractive—just scary. And rumor has it, he has a kinky streak and a ginormous penis—a combination which seems to give me an equal measure of confusion and arousal whenever his icy stare makes its way over to me.

He’s fired me—twice. Hired me back, but with stiff reprimands each time. And he’s like a brother to Dario, a closeness which makes him my best (and worst) chance at attention-getting revenge.

So… yeah. That’s why I’m in the casino bar, three hours after our accounting manager told us to go home, pack a bag, and evacuate. An hour ago, an alarm blared, clearing the casino floor. Thirty minutes ago, I heard a housekeeper say that they were going room-to-room, kicking out guests. And five minutes ago, I pulled off my panties in the bathroom and returned to my barstool, ordering a second Cosmo and waiting for Tripp’s meeting with casino executives to finish.

“We’re closing up soon.” Clint pushed the martini toward me. “Shouldn’t you be out of Mississippi by now?”

I shrugged. “Shouldn’t you be?”

“The top dogs have to drink. You know that.” He smiled at me. “Their tips make it worth the risk.”

I eyed the trio of men at the high-top by the High Roller Slots room. Tripp and two suits from corporate. They had a map of the property spread out and were going over, best I could tell, evacuation proceedings. In the last half hour, they’d been interrupted several times by the security managers, reporting on different parts of the building.

One of the suits stood and offered Tripp his hand. I took a deep sip of the martini and steeled myself. The second exec followed suit, and I watched the men walk out together, and Tripp’s head drop, his attention back on the map.

I swiveled on the stool, facing him, and snuck a glance around, verifying that the bar was empty. Crossing my legs, I pinched the hem of my skirt, inching it higher on my thighs. My normal seduction skills maxed out with a few saucy looks. I’d attracted Dario with the unlikely combination of stuttering and blushes. But I’d need to up my game with Tripp, which is why I was sporting my first Brazilian wax and about to go full Sharon Stone at him across the bar.

I waited until he straightened, running his hand through his hair, his attention caught by a large Korean couple who hustled past the bar toward the exit, their suitcases rattling behind them. He glanced back, then paused, his gaze flitting to me and sticking.

While Dario Capece could charm the dress off any woman with his cocky smile, Tripp Reinhart had an entirely different weapon: his glare. He pinned me with it, his face darkening, and I uncrossed my legs slowly, attempting the sultry motion that Sharon Stone had perfected, and left one heel hooked on the bar rail, while the other brushed the floor, the angle one which should give him a clear view up my short skirt.

I held my breath, masking my nerves behind my martini glass, and I slowly took a sip, holding his eye contact as I forced myself to weather his storm.

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Advertisement Double Down Read online Alessandra Torre (All In Duet #2) http://www.books2020.com/double-down-2-read-online-alessandra-torre Thu, 25 May 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/double-down-2-read-online-alessandra-torre Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Authors: Alessandra Torre Series: All In Duet Series by Alessandra Torre
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >74

Read Online Books/Novels:	Double Down (All In Duet #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Alessandra Torre
Language:	English
Book Information:
The stunning conclusion to the All In Duet... In Vegas, there was one man who was off limits. One man... and I fell for him. I knew there were risks. Still, I played the game. When Dario Capece called, I answered. When he beckoned, I came. When he broke all my rules, I looked the other way. I knew there were risks. I just never realized they included death.
Books in Series:	All In Duet Series by Alessandra Torre
Books by Author:	Alessandra Torre Books

One

dou·ble down

(verb) to strengthen one's commitment to a particular strategy or course of action, typically one that is potentially risky.

BELL

I stared at Gwen’s body, her twisted foot, her awkward splay of arms, the pool of blood around her head. Now, she would always be a stranger to me. Why had she come to my suite? To befriend or confront me? Would we have gotten along, or would we have hated each other?

Dario hung up the phone. “You need to leave.”

“Why did you tell them that I—”

He held up a hand and lifted the phone to his ear. I wanted to finish the question. I needed to know why he would call the police and tell them that I was dead. It was useless. They’d discover the truth the minute they showed up here. They’d turn her over, see her face, and know that it was Gwen and that Dario was lying. Gwen wasn’t some faceless brunette. In addition to being Dario’s wife, she was one of the most powerful women in Vegas. They’d recognize her. It was a stupid lie to tell.

Dario spoke into the phone, his voice thickening with a Cajun accent I’d never heard from him before. “I got a girl coming into town. I need you to pick her up at the strip.”

I poked him in the chest, hard enough to get his attention. “Stop making decisions and talk to me.”

He hung up the phone. “You’re going to Louisiana.”

“For what?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, working through them and pulling an item off the ring. “Go to the stairwell at the end of the hall and use this to get out.”

He held up the small grey button. “Go up four flights of stairs and use the same fob to get into the executive garage at the top.”

I huffed out a breath of understanding.

“Take the Phantom and go meet up with one of your bosses. Not at their house, or the casino. Meet somewhere else. Which one would kill to protect you?” He asked the question without a slice of levity, each word weighted in the careful instructions of something deathly important.

My breath shortened as if in preparation for flight. “Either.” They would. Either of them, if it was necessary to protect me, would kill someone. I believed it the day I was followed from Ian’s, and I believed it now.

“I’m going to text you a number. Call it when you get with one of them.” He passed my bag to me. “Is your gun in here?”

I nodded, glanced down at my feet. “I need my shoe. It’s…”

I pointed in the direction of the living room, and he stepped forward, his eyes focused on the Nike, not looking at Gwen. Gwen. His wife. I felt nauseous.

“Hurry.”

I stepped toward him for a hug, a kiss, some form of comfort.

He moved away, gesturing to his shirt, which was smeared with bright red blood. “You can’t get her blood on you. And you need to go now, before anyone gets here.” He stepped toward the house phone and lifted the receiver. I stayed in place. I couldn’t leave like this. He was sending me away? To Louisiana? He was telling people I was dead? Someone just tried to kill me and forensics was keeping him from kissing me?

Maybe it was more than that. I thought of the way he had fallen to the floor beside her body, calling her name over and over, begging her to wake up. He told her he loved her, told her he was sorry. He had been sorry over us. We had done this. “Dario, I’m not—”

“GO.” He pointed to the door and glowered at me, his jaw set, eyes hard. “Get the fuck out of here. Go to one of your boys and call the number. Now.”

I stepped back, searching his face desperately for love, and was devastated to find nothing. I gripped the Nike, hitched my bag higher on my shoulder, and turned, moving with one socked foot, my gait uneven, my heart breaking as I limped toward the stairwell door.

The key fob worked, the garage easy to distinguish, given the glittering lineup of vehicles. I passed his Bentley, a red Ferrari, a giant truck, and a Mercedes before reaching the Phantom. Dario hadn’t given me a key and I held my breath as I tried the door. Unlocked. Sliding into it, I saw the key sitting in a small compartment in the dash. Surprised at the lack of security, I started the car. Pulling the belt across my chest, I adjusted the seat and hunched over the steering wheel, carefully rolling out of the spot and moving toward the gate.

I made it through the parking garage without hitting anything, and I relaxed a little once I was off The Majestic’s property, the car’s tint hiding me from view. I headed north and dialed Rick’s number first, glancing at the clock. They’d both be at The House.

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Advertisement Even Money Read Online Alessandra Torre (All In Duet #1) http://www.books2020.com/even-money-1-read-online-alessandra-torre Mon, 22 May 2017 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/even-money-1-read-online-alessandra-torre Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Authors: Alessandra Torre Series: All In Duet Series by Alessandra Torre
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >77

Read Online Books/Novels:	Even Money (All In Duet #1)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Alessandra Torre
Language:	English
Book Information:
Sometimes it only takes a minute. A connection of eyes across a room, a quickened heartbeat, and everything changes. I was a cocktail waitress with a fondness for partying and meaningless sex. He owned half of Vegas, with the reputation to match. I should have turned away. Instead, I stepped closer. Then, the lies started. Rumors spread. Stalking commenced. And someone died. None of it stopped me from falling in love.
Books in Series:	All In Duet Series by Alessandra Torre
Books by Author:	Alessandra Torre Books

One

e·ven mon·ey (noun)

odds offering an equal chance of winning or losing, with the amount won being the same as the stake.

The guy in the bumblebee suit was going to walk out of here a millionaire, assuming he didn’t get his fingers cut off by Big Don. I carefully balanced six shot glasses on the glass tray, Maker’s Mark swaying as I moved toward the top table, ignoring a few blatant looks and the hand that found my ass and squeezed it.

I climbed the steps, waited for the tuxedoed protection to move aside, and approached the top table. There were four men left at the felt, all of them silent, their eyes on the flop. I stopped next to the Iranian and carefully deposited the first shot on the green surface, lining up all six in a straight line. He passed me a black chip, and I pocketed it. “Thank you, sir.”

He nodded, and I drifted my gaze over the table to see if anyone else needed anything. There was a flip of cards and the upward drift of cigar smoke. None of the men moved and I stepped back, my attention returning to the game as Bumblebee pushed a tall stack of black and pink chips forward.

Big Don called the bet, and I held my breath as the fourth card unfolded. It was an ace, the second one on the table. I watched Big Don and he leaned forward and smiled. I knew his tells. He had jack shit. I saw a line of sweat drip down Bumblebee’s face and mentally urged him to bet.

He didn’t. He tapped, Big Don tapped, and I turned before I saw fifth street. Nodding to the heavy, I took the steps to the main level and walked through the tables, glancing up at the gold clock above the bar. Almost one, still three hours left in my shift. I moved to the cage and slipped the black chip into the copper box with my name stamped into the top.

I stepped into the dark confines of the back room, the small place dominated by the grid of video feeds that showed every inch of the adjacent room.

“Hey, beautiful.” Lance leaned back in an office chair, his hands linked behind his neck, his eyes flitting over the screens.

“Hey.” I nodded to the screens. “I’ve got the yellow and black suit on the top table. A hundred says he cleans out Don and Mattis.”

“You’re not stealing from me.”

“Give me two-to-one odds, and I’m in.” Rick spun his chair toward me and spoke through a mouthful of Cheetos, a pair of huge headphones half-cocked on his head.

“Done. I got chips in the box.” I didn’t need proof of his ability to cover a hundred-dollar bet. I made pennies compared to the dollars that Rick and Lance brought in. For two Stanford drop-outs, they had done all right, operating the most successful underground house in Vegas.

We watched in silence as the hand ended, a fat stack of chips pushed toward my player, who carefully rearranged his winnings before pushing in the next blind.

“What the fuck is he wearing?” Lance asked.

“I don’t know.” I reached forward and stole a bright orange Cheeto from Rick. “He thinks he looks cool.” The striped yellow and black suit might not have been so bad if the material wasn’t so shiny, the resulting effect that of a psychedelic bumblebee.

“He’s distracting. That might be helping his game,” Rick commented.

“Lloyd shouldn’t have let him in the door. Bell, would you grab me a soda?”

“You got it.” I stepped back and pulled at the handle of the mini fridge, pushing aside beers and finding one of his Sprites. Outside of this room, the place was a palace, but in here, it felt like home. Worn furniture, the guys in sweats and t-shirts, two of the monitors on ESPN, the others on the cameras. There was almost as much gambling in this room as on the floor, and I was as guilty as them, all of us players, our industry the same as our addiction. They stayed in here and kept their money between them, but I’d heard the stories. Lance once bet a stripper she couldn’t fit his cock down her throat. Rick bet ten strangers at the Bellagio that he could swim across the fountains ass naked and escape without being arrested. And those had been the bets outside the casinos. Inside, there were rumors that Lance took the Mirage for three million and used that windfall to open this place. Rick apparently came from money, and lost it all, including his watch, on a bad run of blackjack four years ago. He screwed a drunk Chinese princess for ten grand and built it up to two hundred thousand the next day.

Or, so the stories went. Outside this room, they were Vegas legends. In here, they were two guys on a few hours of sleep, who hadn’t had a real meal in weeks. Lance ran his hand over his face, pulling down on his cheeks before reaching out and taking the Sprite. He didn’t thank me, and I didn’t expect it, but I still poked his arm when I headed back out the door.

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Advertisement Trophy Wife Read Online Alessandra Torre (Dumont Diaries 0.5-5) http://www.books2020.com/trophy-wife-read-online-alessandra-torre Mon, 07 Nov 2016 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/trophy-wife-read-online-alessandra-torre Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Romance Authors: Alessandra Torre Series: The Dumont Diaries Series by Alessandra Torre
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 74487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >82

Read Online Books/Novels:	Trophy Wife (The Dumont Diaries 0.5-5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Alessandra Torre
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	9781940941899
Book Information:
Everyone in Nashville knows Nathan Dumont. That’s what happens when you develop half a town and sleep with the rest. Four years ago, his fiancee disappeared. Last night, he proposed to me. I had wanted to escape my life, the seedy strip club and the mountain of bills. I had seized the opportunity to live in a mansion, fill my days with country clubs and caviar, my nights with romance and sex. Maybe I should have done my homework first.
Books in Series:	The Dumont Diaries Series by Alessandra Torre
Books by Author:	Alessandra Torre Books

I

TO HAVE

In case I die, call the cops on this asshole

NATHAN

“Sir?”

* * *

Nathan turns toward the front seat, the Maybach’s interior dimly lighting the man’s features. “Give me a minute. I’m thinking.” He looks back at the building, the neon sign crooked across its side, the red glow painting the entire parking lot the color of blood. “You sure it’s her?”

* * *

Drew nods. “I’m sure. She’s a perfect match for her driver’s license photo. Gorgeous girl.”

* * *

He chews on the inside of his cheek, considering.

* * *

“You should go in. See her yourself.”

* * *

“I don’t know. Maybe we should just go back to Utah. Look at that waitress again.”

* * *

“You hated the waitress.”

* * *

“At least she had her clothes on.” He presses on the window control, the dark tinted glass smoothly rolling up, the glow of the sign diminishing. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

* * *

Flipping open the folder on his lap, he turns on the interior light, glancing down at the image staring out at him, framed by the Florida driver's license. Candace Tapers. Blonde hair and a bright smile that didn’t match the seedy strip club they were leaving. He closes the folder, her smile haunting him from behind the leather portfolio.

* * *

A stripper. What the fuck had he gotten into?

CHAPTER 1

Six hours later.

* * *

My flip-flops smack through the front door and I kick them off as soon as I cross the cheap metal threshold. I drop my purse on the round kitchen table and pull it open, my fingers diving inside and pulling out cash, folded, stinky dollar bills, their edges worn, skin limp. I flatten the bills on the table, stacking them as I count, praying fervently, that it will be enough. I need at least three hundred dollars. My fingers stop moving and I run out of bills. $112. I sigh, counting out an even hundred and putting it in my wallet to deposit in the bank.

* * *

A belch sounds from behind me and I tighten, stuffing the bills into my purse. I grab my jacket and glance over my shoulder. “Hey Dibs.” I flash a smile at the overweight man who stands in the doorway, his hairy chest exposed, baggy grey pajama pants sagging underneath his large belly. “Didn’t think you’d be up this late.”

* * *

He doesn’t respond, his eyes trailing over my sweatpants and t-shirt, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “Surprised you’re just now getting back. It’s almost five in the morning. You were babysitting?”

* * *

“Parents had a late night,” I say, moving around him, swallowing a shudder at the stench of cigarette smoke and body odor.

* * *

“You know rent’s due.”

* * *

“I’ll get it to you tomorrow. I’m going to the bank in the morning.” I open the door to my room, and step inside, closing it quickly behind me, hoping that he won’t press the issue, won’t pound on the thin door. I feel the vibration of his footsteps, his heavy weight moving to my door. There is a moment of pause, then the continuation of steps down the hall. I relax, gently locking the handle and dropping my purse on the floor.

* * *

My room reeks of Dibs, his musty smells contrasting with the sunny scents I try to flood the room with. He’s definitely been in here, doing godknowswhat. I want to shower, need to stand under hot water and rinse off the smell of the club, one of strangers, heavy perfume, and smoke. But the thought of a chance meeting in the hall with only a towel between me and Dibs… I decide to skip the shower and undress, pulling on a long sleep shirt and soft pajama pants. I crawl into bed quietly, listening for sounds in the house, hoping for the drone of Dib’s snoring, praying that my tired muscles will bring me to a quick sleep.

* * *

Sleep doesn’t come. I stare at the wall for over an hour, trying to occupy my mind with anything but numbers. The low balance in my bank account. The high balance on my credit cards. My dismal credit score. At least tonight was a good night. I didn’t do anything that makes me close my eyes in shame, or curl into a ball and weep into my pillow. I danced and flirted, nothing more, nothing less. My purse is lighter for it, but at least I can sleep guilt-free. Except I’m not. I’m lying in bed and watching dawn tickle the edges of my blinds, my stress keeping sleep at bay.

* * *

Poor Planning. If I ever have a book, that’s going to be the title of it. I had a worry-free childhood that led to a diamond-studded high school career, which led to an I-don’t-care-about-grades college experience, which concluded with a useless graduation ceremony and a useless degree proudly framed and promptly stuck into a cardboard box in my parents’ garage. I celebrated my college graduation in high style, entering the Real World with a wallet full of fresh credit cards and a new profile on Monster.com. I was ready to find a job and live life as an adult.

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9781940941899