Only One Touch (Only One #4) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Only One Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
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“I’ll remember that the next time you ask me for something,” I say, and he shakes his head.

“Well, this was fun,” I say. We are the only two left at the table while everyone else mingles. “I’m going to head out.”

He looks at me. “I can drive you,” he says, getting up, and my eyes fly down to his zipper. That is the first time in my life I’ve ever done that. I whip my head up so fast that I have to hold on to the table. “You okay?” he asks, and I wonder if he caught me staring at his package. I’m so distorted by this that I forget to tell him that I already have a ride home.

“Yeah,” I say. “My foot was asleep,” I lie to him as we make our way over to Ralph and Candace. We say goodbye to them, and I feel the heat of his hand on my lower back coming through my jacket. We walk out of the restaurant, and the cool air hits us.

“This was really nice,” he says, his hand still on my back, and I stop at the entrance of the restaurant. “Like really nice,” he says, and he’s looking at me differently.

I hold my purse with both my hands, and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I’m suddenly fucking nervous, and I have no idea what is going on. Maybe the champagne was not good or spiked.

“I haven’t had this much fun in a long, long time,” I say. He leans closer to me, and I don’t know why my heartbeat speeds up. Or why my hands get clammy or why my stomach feels like it’s a fish out of water flopping all over the place.

“Well, since Celine,” he whispers. I go to push him with my hand, and he grabs it. “I’m kidding,” he says. Standing really fucking close to him, I look up at him, and even with my heels, he’s still taller than my five-foot-seven frame. I never realized how tall he was before.

Both of us stand here, not saying anything when a car pulls up. “That’s for me,” I say, looking at the driver getting out of the car and coming over to open the door for me. “Thank you, Nico,” I say, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. The musky smell of him hits me right away. “For the laughs.”

“You are most welcome, Becca,” he says, and I step away from him and walk toward the waiting car. “Oh, and, Becca?” He calls my name just as I get to the car door. I turn to look at him over my shoulder, putting one hand on the door. “Your secret is safe with me.” He smirks. “Boss.”

I throw my head back and laugh while I flip him the bird. “Have a nice night, Nico,” I say, ducking and getting into the car.

I wait for the driver to close the door before I let out the deep breath I was holding in. I put my hand on my stomach as I look forward and see the driver climb into the car. I don’t look out my window, but I feel his eyes on me. As we pull away from the curb, I turn to see that he is watching the car drive off.

I look out the window the whole time on the way to my penthouse. “Don’t get out,” I say when we pull up out front. Opening the door, I get out and walk into the lobby. The security guard gets up to walk me to the elevator. “Have a great night, Robert,” I say when I get into the elevator.

I slip out of my shoes as soon as I close the door behind me and walk up the steps to my bedroom using only the moonlight to guide my way. My phone beeps from my purse. I turn on the light as I toss my purse on the couch in front of my bed.

Sitting down, I take the phone out and see it’s a text from Nico.

Nico: If I sing “My Heart Will Go On”, will you accept my follow request on Instagram?

I laugh, going to my walk-in closet and taking a picture of me wearing the hat. I bend down so he can only see the top of the hat and not my face. I send him the picture, and it takes him two seconds to answer me.

Nico: That is going to be my screen saver.

I laugh, shaking my head.

Me: Have a nice night, Nico.

I put down the phone and undress. After tossing the clothes into the wash, I go to bed. The next morning when I’m on the treadmill, I get a message from Manning.

Manning: Call me when you’re up.

I press call, and he picks up right away. “How are you up? It’s like six in the morning.”


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