Blossom (Black Rose #3) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Black Rose Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
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A spear of jealousy lances through my gut.

I don’t know why. I don’t know this man from Adam. But damn…there’s something about him. He’s giving off an energy that has my whole body taking notice.

I have a mix of Irish and Scottish ancestry myself. Hence my reddish hair. But what I’d give for those baby-blue eyes. I’ve always thought my brown eyes were plain and kind of dull.

What would it feel like to have those searing blue eyes staring down at me? Smoldering…

Brenda grabs her cosmo by the stem and advances toward the bar with purposeful strides.

Damn it. This was supposed to be a girls’ night for us.

My legs act on their own. They push me to rise, and they follow her.

Then midway to the bar, they turn back, head to our table, and sink me back down onto my seat. Chicken shit.

Brenda sits next to the Scottish God and begins her Lotus flirting.

My stomach sinks.

Brenda is a master at flirtation. She always has been. We always said we never wanted to settle down. We would just enjoy being submissive for the evening and then live our own lives. I honestly thought if one of us went back on those words and settled down, it would be me, not her.

But she and Dalton are so beautiful and perfect for each other.

They fit together like Yin and Yang.

Either she’s making a move just to get me to make a move…or she really is interested and she knows Dalton will be okay with it.

She’s so good at what she does, I honestly can’t tell the difference.

I gulp down the rest of my water, and then I wave to Jennifer.

“What can I get for you, Blossom?” she says as she approaches.

“Nothing. Are you okay?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I mean, I might have a bruise on my bottom, but who cares? Getting knocked over by him was worth it.”

Black Rose has a strict “no fraternizing with the members” policy, but from the sound of Jen’s voice, I’m pretty sure she’d willingly get herself axed for another look under that kilt.

The green-eyed monster roars through me—but why? He’s gorgeous, no doubt, but he could be a complete asshole for all I know. Except he’s not. Not the way he looked absolutely horrified when he ran into Jennifer and then helped her up and escorted her back to the bar.

“Did you need anything else, Blossom?” Jen asks.

“Yes…I’m going to have a lemon drop, I think.”

“You got it.” She starts to move, but I stop her.

“And Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“Just one more thing. Who is he?”

Chapter Three

Ronan

“You’re a pretty thing,” I say to the brunette who just sat down next to me at the bar.

She’s wearing a red halter top and a denim miniskirt.

And she is pretty. Long dark hair, warm brown eyes, full thick lashes.

But she isn’t the one I noticed when I walked by her table a few minutes ago.

I noticed her auburn-haired friend.

Her friend wearing a simple black dress, nothing special.

It was something about her eyes, though…a lighter brown, like well-aged, single-malt scotch.

“Thank you.” She smiles. “My name is Lotus.”

“That’s a beautiful name.”

“It’s my submissive name. The name I’m known as here.”

“Ronan,” I say, holding out my hand.

She takes it, returns my handshake. “So are we just going to not acknowledge your little faux pas when you passed my table?”

I chuckle. “First time that’s ever happened to me.” And it happened because I glanced at her gorgeous friend and then couldn’t look away. “I’m just glad the server is all right.”

“Jen’s tougher than she looks,” Lotus says. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“It’s my first time. I just moved here from Glasgow.”

She tilts her head slightly. “You do have a little bit of a brogue, but it’s light.”

I get that all the time, especially when I’m in my plaid. But I have no brogue. Not even slightly. “I lived most of my childhood here in the States. My mother’s American.”

“I see.”

“Who’s your friend?” I glance over at the beautiful redhead again—the reason for my faux pas, as Lotus so eloquently put it—who’s staring at her hands. She has “submissive” written all over her, and that only intrigues me more.

“That’s Blossom. She and I are besties.”

I steal another glance at the young woman who is nervously sipping from a glass of what looks to be water. Curiosity spikes in me. Why is she agitated? More importantly, why is she alone? “Tell me about her.”

“You mean you don’t want to know about me?” she asks coyly.

“You’re gorgeous, and I like talking to you, but I don’t touch what’s not mine.” I nod toward the giant “no trespassing” sign sparkling on her left hand. “Plus, you’re clearly collared.”

She grins. “My fiancé and I have an open relationship.”

“I’d have to hear that from his lips, not yours. No offense. I learned that lesson the hard way.”


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