Annihilate Me 2: Vol. 1 Read Online Free Page B

overlooked Fifth was a purplish hue punctuated by golden spots
of amber-colored lights to the right and left of us.   I dropped my clutch in the entryway,
reached for his hand, and held it in mine as we moved into our apartment.
    “I’m worried about their lack of
support,” I said.
    “Let’s see how the stock shakes out
before we start to worry—we’ll have a good indication by morning.   I messaged Robert, my head of PR, and
told him that I’m prepared to do a host of interviews ASAP.   He’ll field those calls and tell me
who’s interested, and then, you and I will choose the opinion leaders we think could
best make a difference when I lay out Wenn’s vision to them.   I want to do as much of that as soon as
possible.   Do you agree?”
    “I do.”
    “Look, we’ve had a hell of a
day.   What do you say we sit down
and just relax?   Would you like
martini?”
    “Actually, I would.   But let me make them.   You go and sit in the living room.   No, Alex, don’t give me that look.   Take off your jacket and your tie.   I’ll also bring us something to snack on
since we haven’t had dinner.”
    “We can go out to eat,” he said.
    “Hell no.”   I kicked off my heels and immediately
felt better because my feet were swollen from standing in them for so
long.   “This girl is home with her
husband.   She’s going to indulge in
a drink and a few bites to eat with him, and then we’ll see what comes
later.”  
    He cocked his head at me.   “What does that mean?”
    I kissed him on the lips.   “You never know what might come.   So, go and sit down, stud.   I’ll grab us what we need.   Give me five minutes.”
    When I returned with the drinks,
Alex was sitting on one of the white sofas that overlooked Fifth.   He’d removed his jacket and tie, and he’d
unbuttoned his shirt to the point that I could see the concave of his throat
and a trace of his chest.   I thought
he looked drained, not like himself, which was something I wanted to fix.   I handed him his martini, put mine down
on the coffee table, and then returned to the kitchen to retrieve a plate
filled with cheeses, green grapes, and nuts.   I put the plate down on the coffee
table, sat as close to him as possible, and lifted my martini to him.
    “Here’s to nailing the press
conference,” I said.
    “We’ll see if I nailed it.”
    “You did.   You didn’t give anyone a chance to
change the agenda.   It was
perfect—and it was positive.   Bravo.”
    We touched glasses and sipped.
    “God, that’s good,” he said.   “Did you know that in Russia, they call
vodka ‘my dear little water’.   Sound
appropriate?”
    “It sounds as if I want to drink vodka
from the tap if we should ever visit there.”
    “Do you know what’s even
better?   Having you here with
me.   Riding this out with me.   You mean the world to me, Jennifer.   I’m so happy that you’re not only my
wife, but that you’re my confidant and best friend.”
    He put his drink back onto the
coffee table, and then took mine from my hand and placed it next to his.   I knew what was coming.   He swept me into his arms, our lips met,
and then suddenly he lifted me off the sofa and carried me to the bedroom.
    When he made love to me that night,
it defined what it was to make love.   He was gentler than he’d ever been with me.   It was a profound kind of love, the sort
that made our connection deeper than it already was.   He cupped my breasts in his hands,
kneaded them, and gently sucked on my nipples, which were so unusually
sensitive, I inexplicably climaxed.
    “That was fast,” he said with a
grin.
    “It’s not as if I’m spent,” I
countered.
    “Then let’s consider that the first
of many you’ll enjoy tonight.”
    “Feel free to fulfill that
promise.”
    When he traced his tongue down my
torso, I felt as if my body was on fire.   My breathing quickened.   I
felt my heart begin to race.   When
he entered me with his