Playing His Games (Billionaire Playboys #4) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire Playboys Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
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“Tell your favorite sister everything. Allow me to live vicariously through you.” I roll my eyes as I peel off my cardigan, stained blouse, and hit the zipper on the side of my skirt. The clothes land in a heap on my bedroom floor.

“If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Dad.” When I was laid off from my last job, it was time to tuck tail and ask dear old dad for help, who barely held back the I told you so look. Yeah, that wasn’t any amount of fun. The way he told me not to screw up this job and how he called in a favor didn’t help matters, especially since I’m thirty years old and had no prospects in what was then my career, a degree in philanthropy. I have what you call a bleeding heart, helping others even if it means I’m the one who takes the brunt of the pain, be it not making enough money to live or being taken advantage of with all the hours I put in only for it to fall apart.

“Your secrets are always safe with me,” Sable says on the other end of the line.

“And yours are with me, too.” My older sister has yet to come out to our parents. She’s thirty-two, followed in our father’s footsteps, and she’s also in love with her girlfriend, Blaire. I wish she’d quit holding back her secret. While our dad can be a pompous ass, he does love us, and Mom, well, she loves her girls unconditionally.

“I know. So, tell me what’s going on. The last time we spoke, you were ready to jump your boss’ bones. Way to go for the older guy, sis.” I roll my eyes, standing in my room in only my bra and panties. A cold chill runs over my body, causing me to grab my fluffy robe.

“Shut up. Clearly, we both have a type.” Blaire is ten years younger than Sable and, well, Sly is about the same except older than me.

“Love is love,” she says. No truer words were ever spoken.

“Yeah, well, back then, he was treating me like the bubonic plague. Things changed today. Of course, burning oneself with hot coffee probably moved things along.” Sable’s sharp intake of breath sounds over the line.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Completely and totally. An overprotective alpha swooped in and saved the day while also showing me exactly what he thinks about me.” I go into detail, well, minus the way I was practically naked in his bathroom or the thickness I felt bulging between his legs. How Sylvester was able to walk without his legs spread from his large ahem, appendage, I have no idea, but he does it all the same.

“I’ve seen Sylvester Sterling in action. The way you’ve described him is unlike his usual self. I’d say he’s got it bad for my baby sis. Now, do you need to go to the doctor, or did the two of you role play a certain scenario?”

“Oh my God, you’ve been working too much. I’m going to call Blaire and tell her to make you take a vacation,” I tease the other workaholic in my life. Sable is much like most lawyers in New York—successful, wealthy—and that’s because she worked her ass off to get there.

“I am. The end of this month, we’re going to take a trip home. It’s time. Blaire is tired of being left in the dark. She deserves more, and frankly, so do I.” I’m holding the phone between my shoulder and ear as I clap my hands together in excitement. I love that Blaire keeps my sister humble, loving her with abandon.

“Name the time and date, and I’ll be there. If you want me to,” I offer.

“Of course, I want you there. Question, do you think you could bring Sterling? It’d keep the heat off my back.” I roll my eyes. Typical big sister. Cover me when I’m out past curfew, make sure you tell them I’m at so-and-so’s house, when really, they’re nowhere near there. We always covered for one another. Still do.

“The way he drove me home, walked me to my door, and didn’t leave until he heard the deadbolt slide into place, I’m pretty sure he’ll invite himself.” When the clock struck six, I was done. Finding a caterer for food ended up being easy since it was now scheduled for Friday. Sly made our cups of coffee, and true to his word, I worked in his office, sitting on the couch, laptop in my lap until it got too hard on my back. Then I slid to the floor. Sylvester grumbled, but I waved him off, and we worked in companionable silence.

“Oh yes, he most certainly wants Fawn Peterson. I vote we tell our parents at the same time. It’ll be a win-win.” Easy for her to say. She’s in a committed relationship. I’m in a ‘Oh fuck, what have I done, he’s my boss” situation. The way he kissed my forehead when Sly dropped me off at my apartment, I’m still overanalyzing the whole day.


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