Mr. Masters Read Online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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She’s completely naked and has my tie tied around her head like a sweatband. Her hair is wild and loose. I drag myself up to a seated position, too, and she bursts out laughing. Something hangs in front of my eyes and I bat it away. “What’s that?”

Bree laughs loudly as she looks over at me. I glance down at myself. I’m wearing one sock and I have her gold beads tied around my head like a sweatband.

I lick my sandpaper lips. “My mouth’s so dry,” I groan.

I drag myself up to get two glasses of water, returning to the living room as quickly as I can. I pass her her drink, and it's then that I notice the room is destroyed. The sofa is pushed against the walls and there are crisps scattered all over the carpet. A bottle of scotch is spilt all over the coffee table. I pinch the bridge of my nose. "This is like that fucking Hangover movie."

Brielle downs her glass of water in one go before she stands and moves to stand beside me. She kisses me as she smiles against my lips. “I had a good night.” She pauses and then narrows her eyes. “I think.”

I frown as I get a vision of us dirty dancing to the song Poker Face. Where was that?

She picks up her phone from the coffee table and snaps a selfie of the two of us just as I hit the beads tied around my head out of the way.

She laughs again.

“I’ve got to shower before I die.” I grab Bree’s hand and drag her up the stairs, into my bathroom. We stand next to each other and stare at our dishevelled reflections in the mirror.

“Oh, man.” Bree frowns. “What the hell happened and where are the kids?”

“At my mother’s.”

I turn the shower on and untie the gold beads from my head. “I’ve got to go get them.” My eyes widen as horror dawns. “Where’s my car?”

She puts her hands over her mouth and laughs out loud.

“Oh, that was a great idea, Einstein. Let’s get fucked up.” I roll my eyes.

I stand under the water and Brielle gags over the sink. “I think I’m going to die,” she grumbles.

“Serves you right, you fucking maniac.”

She climbs under the water with me, and we wrap our arms around each other. I kiss the top of her head as the hot water runs over us. “Did we have sex?”

“I’m on the pill, so it’s okay if we did.” She kisses my chest.

We hold each other for a long time and I smile to myself as the memories filter back to me. I don’t remember the last time I had fun like that.

Bree kisses my chest and looks up at me. “So… you’re going to be my boyfriend now?”

I frown down at her. “What?”

“Don’t.” She kisses my lips. “Don’t take it back.”

“I’m not any good at boyfriend stuff.” I sigh sadly.

She kisses my chest again. “I know this must be hard for you after losing your wife. I know why you don’t let anyone close. You’re such a good husband to grieve so deeply for her.”

What?

I step back from her as my blood runs cold. My eyes hold hers as the hot water runs over my head and down my face.

Time seems to stand still. “I’m a good husband?” I ask. “You think I’m a good husband?” She nods.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” I sneer.

She pales, but doesn’t speak.

“My wife died on the day I asked her for a divorce.”

Bree’s face falls and her eyes search mine. “How? How did she die?”

“She killed herself.”

Chapter Eighteen

Brielle

“W-what?” I whisper.

His eyes hold mine. “You heard me.”

He grabs the shampoo and begins to soap up his hair while I stare at him.

She killed herself.

He rinses the shampoo out of his hair and then looks down at me. “Shocked into silence?” he asks sarcastically. “Or just too horrified to speak.”

I raise my eyebrows and casually take the shampoo to wash my own hair.

I am shocked into silence and too horrified to speak.

Why didn’t Janine our cook tell me this? “Who knows about this?” I ask.

“My parents.”

“Who else?”

“Sebastian and Spencer. Nobody else. I’ve never told another woman before.”

I stare up at him, and I don’t know whether to be flattered or mortified that I’m the first one he told. What do I even say to this?

I narrow my eyes. “You’ve carried this secret around for five years?”

He nods, and the water runs over his face. His haunted eyes hold mine, like he’s expecting me to run. He really is broken. It’s as clear as day now.

I knew it. I knew something was hurting him. I picked it up weeks ago.

I cup his face in my hand. “Jules,” I whisper.

He drops his head and I reach up and kiss his lips tenderly. At this moment, he needs me. He needs my acceptance, and for whatever reason that is, I'm going to give it to him.


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