11 Dates (Eleven #3) Read Online Octavia Jensen

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Eleven Series by Octavia Jensen

Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)

Harrison Stag is finally mine. After ten years, a fiasco in an elevator, and more mind-blowing sex than I could handle, it’s time to settle in.
Is it really possible to have it all?


The Tour Date

To say that I was happy would be an understatement. The man Harrison had become was so different from the one who’d tossed huge workloads on my desk without a ‘thank you’ that it was like night and day. Instead of files, he tossed me on the desk and ate me like I was his lunch.

It was everything I’d yearned for.

He was everything I’d yearned for.

I still got butterflies when we went on dates, still got them when he’d take my hand in public and I was the one hanging off his arm. Every time I looked at him, he looked more handsome than the last, and because of that... sometimes I struggled to look away. “I’m excited for the concert tonight, but sometimes I swear I could make a night of just staring at your gorgeous face.”

The restaurant was quiet and dark, casting his face in shadow as he smirked slightly and pushed my glass of wine closer to me. “Could you?”

I took a sip before I responded, my red lipstick leaving a print on the glass. “Yes. It’s a good face.”

“And you’ve been a good girl today,” he said fondly. “Almost like you’re trying to butter me up.”

“Have I?” I batted my eyelashes and slipped off my heel, then slid my foot up between his legs. “You’re so hot when you’re buttered up, Sir.”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he reached under the table to grip my ankle. “That was one time, Briella. I didn’t feel clean for a week after that scene, and we ruined the sheets.”

“Not the first sheets we’ve ruined... I don’t think it will be the last.”

Not smiling was a job in itself, especially when I tried to toe at his crotch and he adopted his signature grumpy look. “Briella. Don’t be a brat. We have a long night ahead of us, you know.”

I did know, but I also knew he was hard under those slacks for me.

It made holding myself back harder, but I was playing a long game here. Concert sex was on my bucket list. “Yes, Sir. Such a long, hard, wet night ahead.”

It didn’t make sense, but I didn’t need it to. It was clear by the way his eyes darkened that I’d got my point across, but Harrison had some plans of his own I hadn’t accounted for.

“Spread your legs.”

I bit my lip as I complied, my gaze not wavering in the slightest. “Will you make me wait?”

His eyes flicked to the table as he sat back and put his feet on my seat, pinning my thighs apart. “Yes, I’m going to make you wait. But since it seems that I’m on a date with my good little whore and not my girlfriend, we’re going to play a little game. Tell me your top three scenes we’ve done, and exactly how hard you came each time.”

My attempt to clench at his words was stopped short. “Fuck me,” I muttered, clearing my throat before continuing. “I loved the scene we did when you chained me to the ceiling. Coming that time was... mind-altering.”

“I remember. You squirted,” he commented, taking a slow bite of his food. “Two more.”

“Do you remember the time we played that game where you tried to make me come and I had to fight it?”

He tilted his head, nudging his feet a little to spread me open further. “Which time?”

I chuckled. “The first time, Sir. The time when I almost passed out when I gave in.” I shivered. “And then there was the time we role played at that work party. When we didn’t even make it to a room and you took me in the hallway.”

“Are those your three?”

Picking only three out of all the scenes we’d done was hard, but I knew he didn’t want me being indecisive. “Yes, Sir. But I love all our scenes.”

Harrison pulled out his phone and shot off a text, then took another bite. “Are you wet, Briella? Are you ruining the vinyl you’re sitting on?”

“Yes,” I gasped, grabbing my wine for a long sip.

“Such a beautiful little whore,” he whispered. “My beautiful Briella. Now eat your dinner.”

His legs dropped, leaving me longing for more and desperate to please him. I forced myself to focus on my food and not the sex we’d be having later, pleased with how delicious the meal ended up being, and when I finished I couldn’t stop smiling. “Thank you for dinner, Harrison. I love going on dates with you.”

“So do I,” he admitted softly. “But we should get going if we want to get backstage. After a certain point, the whole place will be crawling with people trying to get to the twins. Are you finished?”