Page 39 of Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire

"Not stupid." He shakes his head. "Just innocent. Like you."

"Oh, trust me, I’m far from innocent," I shoot back before thinking, and I want to groan as he gives me a knowing look. Why does my big mouth always get me into trouble?

14

Ethan

I can’t believe that I’ve shown Sarah my art studio. My safe space. My sanctuary.

Sarah is the only woman who has ever seen it and only the fifth person in my life who knows that I paint—the others being my grandparents, my parents, and Jackson. I’m not sure why I decided to show her the painting, especially because I’m nude in it.

It certainly wasn’t because I wanted to get a reaction. Which she did give me.

I think it’s because I wanted to show her that she isn’t the only one who sometimes does inappropriate things when drunk. I wanted to take away her embarrassment, which I think I did. Now, we’ve moved past that, but she still seems slightly embarrassed.

And she’s not drunk right now. I know it’s because she just told me she’s far from innocent… in a way that tells me she is, indeed, far from innocent.

As I stare at her blushing, I know she’s telling the truth about many things today. I know she was on a girls’ night out, having fun, and the personal ad was accidentally posted. I don’t understand how it was accidentally posted, but I know she didn’t do it intentionally. She’s not that sort of lady. And I don’t think she’s trying to manipulate me to make me fall for her.

That doesn’t mean I don’t feel the chemistry. There’s an attraction between us; there’s no denying it. Even as I stare at her now, I want her. And I can tell from the furtive glances that she’s giving me, she wants me. I can still see her licking her lips as she checked out every single inch of my painting, and I feel hard again. I want that tongue on my cock, for real.

It’s nice to be around Sarah. She’s not trying too hard. Usually, women who like or want me are overtly sexual about it or try to come on to me. I don’t know why they think that will work. I don’t fall for women just because they offer themselves up on a platter. Half the time, they don’t even really want me. It’s usually all about the money and the luxury goods they think I can buy them. I know that whatever is happening between Sarah and me is not about the money in my bank account.

"Is everything okay, Mr. Rosser?" she asks me, her voice sweet and nervous. "I didn’t mean I’m not innocent, like a whore or anything. I was just…" She pauses as she giggles nervously.I don’t know what it is about the tone of her voice, but it’s so beautiful. It sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it.

"I’m fine," I say, stepping toward her. "I was just thinking about the jingles and your request. And, of course, if I can get King Charles to design a light for our collection, it will send sales through the roof."

"You know King Charles?" she asks, shocked.

"No, I don’t. Aside from on TV. Plus, he has most of the money in the world, thanks to plundering. Well, maybe not more than the Royal family in Saudi Arabia. So, I very much doubt that he needs to design a gold pendant light for the Royal Collection." I laugh, change the subject, and don’t dwell on her innocent comment. I’m not sure either of us is ready to walk down that path yet. Though, I feel very ready inside.

"So, can I hear what you got?" I ask her, cocking my head to the side. This will be the real test of her skills.

"Now?" she asks, blinking rapidly.

"Now is as good a time as any, right? Also, if you would like to play any instruments"—I wave around—"I have several I can show you and lend you to play."

"Oh! Really?" She glances up in surprise. "I didn’t know that you played anything."

"Private school." I shrug. "You had to take music lessons. I played piano, wanted to learn guitar. Taught myself a couple of chords. I’m no good though."

"Oh, I could teach you, if you want." She pauses. "Not that you’d want, of course. I mean, I can’t teach anyone, I’m not that good, but—"

"You play guitar?" I ask her, surprised.

"Yeah," she says, smiling weakly. "I’m not good or anything, but I do know how to play."

"Why do you think you’re not good?" I ask, and she blushes nervously.

"Because I work as a junior copywriter at Rosser International and don’t have much time to practice. Plus, I’m not on tour right now." She giggles.

"Okay, but there are plenty of good artists that aren’t on tour right now." I wonder how serious she is about being a musician and if she’s any good. She’s radiant and cute, so I have no doubt that people would be drawn to her.

"True, I just don’t know that I’m one of them. I… Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m not really an artist. Like, I just play for fun, you know? I don’t want to be Taylor Swift or Ed Sheeran." She whispers something under her breath, but I can’t understand what she’s saying.

"Well, you couldn’t be Ed Sheeran because he’s a man. And you’re a woman." I stare at her shapely body and suddenly feel hot and bothered. "Though, I guess, nowadays, you could be, if you got a sex change and transitioned."

"I don’t want a sex change, thank you very much. But I do love Ed Sheeran, I think he’s great. He’s one of my favorites. Him, Passenger, David Berkeley, and James Bay." She sounds excited now. "In fact, my favorite artist right now is this guy called Noah Kahan. Have you heard any of his songs?"

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