Courted (How Not To Be Seduced By Billionaires: Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

again.”
     
                He tipped my chin up, and I trembled, his touch rekindling the desire inside me. When our gazes met, I saw that he was smirking again. The jerk!
     
                This time, he caught my hand before I could slap him again. And then he was kissing me, his tongue sweeping in and exploring my mouth. All I could do was kiss him back wildly, panting for more. My body strained towards him, wishing there wasn’t a barrier separating our seats.
     
                Constantijin forced me back to the windows, still imprisoning both my hands behind my back. I whimpered when he sucked on my tongue. I whimpered again when he let go of my lips but only so he could nibble on my collarbone.
     
                “Constantijin,” I sobbed.
     
                He released me.
     
                I blinked rapidly in shock.
     
                He was smirking again.
     
                Oh, the effing ass!
     
     
     
    Day 15 of Courting
     
    “You have got to stop sending me flowers,” I told him laughingly while I was in my bath and he was in Dubai, meeting with oil sheikhs for the newest real estate project of Kastein, Inc.
     
                “But I like doing it. I keep thinking how when I have you in my bed, I’d use all those petals to sprinkle all over you, tickle you, use it to caress your clit---” He paused then asked wickedly, “Are you turned on now?”
     
                “None of your business,” I managed to say.
     
                He laughed.
     
                That sound never failed to make my day – or night. Sinking more deeply into my bubble bath, I said again, “I’m serious. Knowing how much you’re spending on me with each bouquet is giving me a headache.”
     
                I could hear him frowning as he answered, “Is this my fucking courtship or what?”
     
                Knowing it was never a good thing to have long-distance quarrels, I said quickly, “I sent you a picture message. Did you get it?”
     
                He didn’t answer, but I could hear the faint sound of his fingers tapping on the screen of his mobile phone.
     
    “ Yanna .” This time, he sounded more exasperated than angry, allowing me to breathe a sigh of relief.
     
                I had sent him a picture message of a floral bouquet, with an e-card attached.
     
    You are so cute!
     
                Remembering the message made me giggle.
     
                Constantijin said darkly, “And I am not cute .”
     
                That had me giggling even more.
     
                “You are playing with me again.”
     
                “Yes, this time, I am,” I admitted, unable to keep myself from grinning. God, I couldn’t believe I was having this kind of conversation with Constantijin. I mean, what were the odds? He wasn’t much of a caller – and God knew how he hated sending text messages. If he had ever enjoyed a call with another woman before, it would probably have been the hardcore variety of phone sex.
     
                “You are a bad girl.”
     
                God, I loved it when his accent thickened and he started talking simplified English. “I learned from a bad man.”
     
                He sucked in his breath. “I’ve never been this aroused from a mere call.”
     
                That didn’t make us even, not even close. I had never been aroused – until I met him. Still smiling my insanely smitten smile, I asked softly, “Did you like the picture, though?”
     
                A smile was also in his voice when he answered softly, “Yes.”
     
                I ventured, “That’s the kind of bouquet I’d love you to give me.”
     
                Silence from the other line.