Mr. Big Shot Read Online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
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“You’re kidding me.”

She throws her hands up. “That’s the whole point! If we have great sex but you’re the one in charge, I won’t have the answer to my question. I’ll just assume you were the reason it was so good.”

I’m having the hardest time suppressing a laugh. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Let me seduce you.”

The raging hard-on I’m sporting beneath my zipper must not be evidence enough. I wipe my hand down my face. “Scarlett, you could—”

She takes a step back and reaches for the strap of her dress. She’s going to make good on her promise, and she only gives me a moment to realize that before she pushes her strap down off her shoulder and the front of her dress dips low enough that I catch a teasing glimpse of black lace lingerie cresting over her left breast.

Oh.

My stomach swoops.

My hands fist into the couch.

She’s watching me, hungry for my reaction. I don’t try to conceal it. I don’t think I’m savvy enough to mask it anyway. She has to know how much I want her, how much this is killing me.

She lets her dress hang like that for a suspended moment as I just sit there, admiring her. Then with a shaky hand, she reaches up for her other strap, sliding it over her slender shoulder and letting it slip off before she pushes the top of her dress down to her hips.

So much of her skin is revealed so suddenly. I want to demand she slow down, let me catch my goddamn breath, but I can’t speak as she slides her dress the rest of the way off, letting it pool in a silky heap at her feet before she steps out of it altogether.

I haven’t taken a breath in what feels like five minutes. My chest is screaming for air.

Scarlett’s in nothing but black lace. Her lingerie is delicate and sparse enough that I can see the pink tips of her breasts through the fabric. Even if she hadn’t ordered me to just sit here, I wouldn’t be able to move.

She’s…exquisite.

I can’t decide where to look. My gaze roves over her body with hungry abandon. I take in her full breasts over the top of her lingerie, the high cut of her black thong over her hips, her endless legs. A piece of her dark brown hair falls over her shoulder, casting a shadow over part of her face.

I can feel her nervous energy palpating between us.

“Am I okay?” she asks timidly.

I squeeze my eyes closed so I don’t let out a string of expletives. When I think I’ve mostly managed to conquer the worst of my anger with Jasper, I blink my eyes open and look at her again.

Her gaze is wide and innocent. Her dark lashes frame the sweetest pair of dark brown eyes. Her face could bring me to my knees.

“Come here.”

She hesitates as if she’s scared, but when she eventually steps closer, right between my knees, I reach out to skim my hand up the outside of her right thigh, toying with the lace fabric, tugging it up higher until it rests over her hip bone. I swallow as my thumb brushes her skin. It’s so soft she doesn’t feel real.

“You’re doing it again,” she says with a weak voice.

Ignoring her, I bring my hand up to smooth it over the contours of her stomach, up higher, skimming her ribs and brushing the outside of her bra.

This isn’t what a one-night stand is supposed to feel like.

“Hudson.”

Her teasing voice breaks me out of my spell, and I look up at her.

She’s battling a smile. “You’re not supposed to be the one doing the touching.”

I can hear my pulse roaring in my ears. The way she looks, her body, her heart—she’s so fragile, the gentlest thing I’ve ever held. Everything demands I sit up and take note of her. Fuck the agreement. Fuck her rules. I want to worship her. I want to splay her out on the floor of this apartment and not come up for air until daybreak.

But I surrender and sit against the back of the couch. I let my hands drop on either side of my thighs and I wait. I gave her my word, and I intend on keeping it, no matter what.

The humor dies in her expression as she realizes I’m relenting. I’m giving her exactly what she’s asked for, without a fight, and now she doesn’t know what to do with all her new power.

An order is on the tip of my tongue, but I resist just as she inches closer and—

“I’m going to sit down, okay? Like this.”

And then she straddles me on that couch, her knees going to either side of my hips. My hands rise up—I’m about to seat her right where I want her—but I resist the urge and let her settle down onto me the way she wants.



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