Page 53 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
“We’ll do better this time. It’s hard not to get… ‘stringy’ in a hotel room on the beach in Greece. But this time you’ve got an entire mansion to roam around in, and I’ve got my own house to go back to, so it’ll work.”
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“I’ve got a townhouse in the harbor area, overlooking the water. It’s nice. Not a huge place, but it’s all I need.”
“Sounds nice. I’d like to see it sometime.”
I broke eye contact, reaching for a piece of warm ciabatta and dipping it in the small olive oil dish. I couldnotlet her see my place. Not if I wanted her to buy into this plan.
“Sure. I’ll give you a tour sometime. Not today, though—it’s a mess.”
She smiled, settling back in her chair and studying me with her fingers tented beneath her chin.
“A sex-free fling, huh? You really think we could do that?”
My dick, which was feeling jerked around at this point—and not in thegoodway—wasn’t happy with me, but I ignored it and gave her a reassuring smile. I’d take any time with Scarlett I could get—in or out of the sheets.
Though shewouldlook fantastic rolling around in the 600 thread-count ones on my bed.
My fingers clenched the tops of my thighs under the table.
“Absolutely,” I said. “No problem. As easy as Nooky’s chocolate cream pie.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t stop yourself from eating that?” Scarlett challenged.
“Oh. Right. Let me amend that to ‘as easy as boiled okra.’ Nowthat, I can resist.”
Scarlett was definitely not okra.
She was the chocolatey-ist chocolate cream pie with chocolate sauce in a chocolate crust with shaved chocolate sprinkled on top.
“I’ll think about it,” she said. “In the meantime, I think I’ll look at a dessert menu. You’re making me hungry again.”
Tell me about it.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
ROCK STAR
Scarlett
Vivi had told me she meant to turn in early, but she was still awake when I got back to the mansion.
I peeked into the open door of her sitting room before going to my own room to shower and get ready for bed. She saw me from the corner of her eye and turned her head.
“Scarlett. Come quickly. Come look at this on the late news. It’s so exciting.”
“What is it?”
The scene on her television featured a young reporter doing a live report from a dark street in Providence, the state capital.
Vivi turned up the volume.
“There is massive excitement within the art world tonight as the anonymous street artist known only as ‘Inksy’ appears to have struck here in Providence.”
The young woman walked as she talked while the camera followed her. “City officials say normally works of graffiti are quickly painted over to deter vandalism to public and private property, but faculty at RISD and the Brown University Department of Fine Art persuaded them to wait while experts are called in to try to determine whether this piece, which appeared sometime during the night last night, is indeed a genuine Inksy.”
As the reporter continued to speak, the photographer zoomed the camera out to show the entirety of the wall behind her.
