Be My Billionaire Valentine Read Online Max Monroe

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
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I definitely needed to care more—grow some balls—and send her upriver to a nice temp job at a different company. Maybe the PerfectMatch—TapNext’s direct competition—headquarters was looking for someone.

Every time I actually got close to pulling the trigger, though, my conscience kicked in. Manipulative bastard.

“Yeah.” I groaned and laughed at the same time. “Trust me, I’ve considered it. A lot. But when I imagine her trying to find another job, I’m torn between guilt at making someone else deal with her and fear that she’ll end up homeless and on the street.”

Georgia cackled.

“What?” I questioned and tilted my head to the side. “Why is that so funny?”

“You do realize that she has far too many sugar daddies to end up on the street, right?”

I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean she has sugar daddies?”

“Sugar daddies, Kline,” Georgia repeated. “Men who buy her things. Who do you think paid for her huge boobs and lip injections?”

“Baby, I try really hard to forget that she works for me, much less trying to figure out who paid for her plastic surgery.”

If I was being honest, while some men might have loved the big, fake tits and huge lips, I was mostly just disturbed by it all. Human skin wasn’t supposed to be stretched to the point of translucency. Not to mention, I liked it when breasts moved when I played with them.

“Kline, you’re a real sweetheart, but…” My wife paused and then shook her head with a grin. “Just trust me, Leslie would survive if you fired her.”

“So, you’re telling me I should fire her?”

“Oh, no. No, no.” Georgia laughed, wagging a finger at me like a sword. “You’re not putting that decision on my shoulders. You, Mr. Big Shot CEO, are going to have to make that decision on your own. If I were her boss, I’d have to make the decision to fire Tits McGee myself, and you do too.”

“Baby, I love how you’re acting all tough right now, but you and I both know, you’re so full of shit, the flies are descending.” I eyed her knowingly. “If you were in my shoes, Tits McGee would still be on your payroll, employee of the month, and on the list of staff up for a raise.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, picking up a dish towel and throwing it at me. “I’m a softy, but not for her. Mary in Billing still makes a disgusted face at me every time I come into the office to visit you.”

“Mary?”

“I quoted Ren and Stimpy in her condolence card, Kline!”

I chuckled and dodged a plastic cup as it flew at my face. “Oh, right. When her husband died. I forgot about that. I thought Dean caught it before it went to her?”

Georgia turned and pulled something out of the oven, slamming it down with the most adorable fuming nostrils. “He did! But then Leslie told her I’d done it anyway.”

“Sorry, baby,” I said with a small smirk. It wasn’t funny, but it was funny…you know?

I sighed. “Anyway, I think it’s possible she’s lost a few of her sugar daddies, as you call them, because she was crazy fucking busy today with the task of nailing down who she wants to be dating for Valentine’s Day. I swear, all damn day, she was on her phone, chatting with God knows who on TapNext.”

Georgia’s face crinkled in confusion. “It’s May.”

I shrugged. “I know.”

“So, why is she looking for Valentine’s Day dates in May?”

I stared at her for a minute until she bugged out her eyes and lifted her arms to her sides.

“Oh. Were you wanting a real answer to that question? Because I don’t have a fucking clue.”

Georgia shook her head, turned to grab two plates from the cabinet, and set them down on the counter beside the tray of roasted broccoli from the oven. “Well, part of this is your fault. You made TapNext a work-approved app, and now she thinks she’s entitled to troll for penis during the day.”

“Because it’s our fucking app,” I retorted. “My employees need to know how the app works to be able to promote it, fix it, improve it.”

Georgie shrugged on a laugh. “Yeah, but still. Leslie thinks she’s doing sugar daddy market research or something.”

I groaned. “Fucking hell, I probably should fire her.”

Georgia shrugged, clearly determined to avoid the trap of giving me permission.

I cocked my head to the side, unwilling to lose without trying one last time. “So, you agree, you think I should fire her?”

“Nice try, baby.” My wife laughed. Outright. And then turned around to open the oven door and bend over to check the chicken marsala in the pan still inside.

I took that opportunity to step forward and place two greedy hands on her ass and squeeze.

She squealed on a giggle. “Kline Brooks!”

“You have only yourself to blame.” I waggled my brows and glanced down at where my hands met her backside and squeezed. “Flaunting this perfect ass in my face like that.”


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