The Ro Bro Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
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“No. It’s not. It just looks good in clothes.”

She belts out a “Ha!” then shakes her head. “Whatever. I’m not gonna sit here in a tub of magical rose petals and try to convince you you’re hot. I’m just saying—you’re handsome, Steve. But… you’re kinda nice too.”

“Thank you.” I decide to take the compliment. I am a nice guy. I think so, at least. “But it’s easy. It’s very easy to be a nice guy when you have so much, ya know?”

“Your sister is loaded. I can’t even imagine how much she makes every month. Well, actually I can. My family isn’t like… poor, or anything. I have seen money. But when Essie did that tour of her Malibu beach house last year—”

I cringe. I didn’t agree to that. It was Mike’s idea.

“—that is money on another level than what I’m used to.”

As much I do love to hear that Cordelia thinks I’m handsome, I actually hate talking about money. Especially mine. So when her foot bumps up against my thigh I decide to move this conversation on to something more mood-making. I pick up her foot.

She makes a little squeal sound, then pulls her foot back. “What are you doing!”

“Sorry. Are you ticklish? I just wanted to take your shoe off and make you more comfortable.”

Her foot is up in the air—still within reach—when she kinda freezes. No doubt running this scenario through her head.

I reach for her foot. “May I?”

She bites her lip. It’s a textbook reaction in pretty much every romance book ever written. Then she nods her head ‘yes’.

I force my satisfied grin back into submission and try on my best Master Choke serious face as I look her in the eyes and run my fingers along the leather T-strap of her low, curved-heel pump. Then I pop the tiny button on the leather strap holding the shoe in place and slide it off her foot.

She lets out a breath.

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Feels better?”

She’s still biting that lip, but she manages a nod.

I don’t mean to hold her foot captive, but it’s right here in my hand. And it’s so cute. Her little toenails are painted a glossy tangerine color and bespeckled with teal-blue polka dots. And then, before I can think—before I can stop myself—I bring her big toe right up to my mouth and kiss it.

She gasps. Almost pulls her foot back. In fact, she tries out my grip—which is not that tight—and when I do not let go, she gives in, allowing her leg to relax.

My God. Was Master Choke some kind of genius? Is the right level of assertiveness during a new experience capable of rendering a woman speechless?

It seems to have worked here. But it wasn’t my intention, so I say, “Wanna do me next?” to break that spell.

“Huh?”

She’s still caught. But I nudge her out of it with an explanation. “My shoe?” I raise my leg up from the sea of rose petals. “My fuckin’ feet are killing me.”

“Who are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are you doing?”

“Asking you to take off my shoe? But that’s OK. I can do it.” And then I bring my foot up, take the shoe off, and toss it across the bathroom. It plops on the tile floor and Cordelia’s eyes follow this motion to the very end. I do the same with my other shoe and then smile at her. “You can take off your other one. Unless you want me to.” I put out a hand, offering.

I’m not sure what I expect of Cordelia in this moment. None of this was planned, which proves I’m not Master Choke. He plans everything. It’s a personality disorder if you ask me, but whatever, the readers loved it.

But to my great surprise—and delight—she lifts her foot up from the rose petals and offers it to me.

I almost bite my hand to stifle a scream. If this was a rom-com movie there would be a little bubble over my head with a fantasy scene of me doing this exact thing.

But this is real life, so I play it cool, gently take her foot in my hand, pop the little strap button with my teeth, and then slip it off her foot. Instead of kissing her toe, this time I lick it.

She squirms, probably ticklish, and jolts her foot back, pulling it from my grasp.

I lean back in the tub, satisfied with this impromptu date so far.

“I think…” she says. “I think maybe you are a little out of my league, Steve.”

“What?” I scoff. “No. No, no, no. We are in the exact same league, my dear Cordy.”

“But you’re… these moves… I’m…”

“Taken aback?”

She nods.

I have to make a decision here. I can do one of two things. Well, there are probably a half a dozen ways to play this, but I only have time to contemplate an either-or situation. I could, perhaps, morph into Master Choke and take full control, thereby setting her at ease by making the decisions. Or… I could affirm her inexplicable emotions. Make her feel… what? Comfortable?



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