Page 64 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
“Shhhh,” she said. “Be quiet. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The last thing I saw was her adorable ass as it disappeared at the top of the stairs.
Well, okay then. To be continued.
Still hard and feeling like I’d had four back-to-back Venti Nitro Cold Brews, I packed away my pencils and picked up the drawing pad, preparing to close it before stashing it in my bag.
Instead, I took a minute to study it. The light really was low in here. I liked what I’d done, but I wanted a better look. I’d take it home and live with it for a few days before I decided how I really felt about my work on it.
Shit.I’d promised Scarlett to give this to her tonight. I didn’t want to invite her to distrust me.
Ripping the sheet from the pad, I signed my name to the bottom and prepared to take it upstairs to her room. First, I snapped a picture of it with my phone so I could look at it later at home.
I was the artist after all, and this was one creation I intended to enjoy fully.
As for thesubjectof my drawing… I intended to enjoy her as often as she’d let me.
I’d never met anyone like Scarlett Hood, and it wasn’t enough anymore to just capture her likeness on paper or canvas or cinder block wall. I wantedmorethan a fling.
For now, I’d take what I could get.
But one thing had become crystal clear in the past few days… I wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d capturedher.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
BLUFF WALK
Scarlett
Whew that was close.
What had I beenthinking, engaging in foreplay at the fairy fountain in my grandma’s house?
Ihadn’tbeen thinking. I’d been feeling. I’d succumbed to the magical sex-pull Gray Lupine exuded like some kind of super magnet.
What was it about this guy that made me lose all semblance of common sense? It happened before in Greece, and now it was happening again.
It was stupid. I knew it was. All the reasons I’d given Gray that we couldn’t do this were still true.
-I was leaving soon.
-He was an undoubtedly damaged former SEAL who didn’t see a therapist or take meds.
-I couldn’t—couldnot—end up with a man like my dad.
Running through that mental list reminded me I reallyshoulddo everything in my power to resist Gray.
Tomorrow I would tell him it had been a mistake, that we needed to go back to no-sex fling status or just abandon the fling idea altogether.
Behind me, there was a soft, shushing sound. At first I thought I was hearing a mouse. But then I saw it.
Someone had pushed a sheet of paper under the door.
I walked over to it and picked it up.
It was the drawing.
The sight of myself depicted there in charcoal by Gray’s hand was nothing less than mind-altering.
