Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire (Single and Sassy in the city Book 2)

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?’

‘Never heard of him.’ I think for a moment as my brain processes the name she just told me. ‘Wait, isn’t your last name Kahan, as well? Is he, like, a relative of yours or something?’

‘No, I wish. And yes, that is my last name. Good memory.’Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

‘I like to think my memory is pretty good. So, there’s a young man with the same last name as you. I mean, I’m guessing young, he could be old.’

‘He’s young,’ she says. ‘He’s, like, twenty-seven, I think. Anyway, he has a beautiful voice. Mainly folk-rock, bluesy songs. He’s this indie artist, and I just love him, and we have a very similar style.’

‘Could you play one of your songs for me?’ I ask her, wanting to hear an original. I surprise myself by asking because I normally don’t have patience for people who wish to show me their random skills.

‘Oh, no, no, no,’ she shakes her head quickly, ‘I am not talented. There’s no way.’

‘But you will play the jingle you created for me?’

‘I mean, sure, I’ll play part of the jingle that I thought up. It’s not great or anything, because I didn’t know, really, anything about what you wanted. I figured you would give me more of a brief in our first official meeting.’ She smiles sweetly. ‘But if you have a guitar you can lend me, I will play you what I’ve come up with, so far.’

‘Let me get a guitar for you,’ I say as I head out of the study toward my bedroom. ‘I’ll be right back!’ I shout as I jog down the corridor. I open the door, and for a few moments, I consider calling her to follow me. I stare at my welcoming bed and how badly I want to see her on it, but I don’t want to make her feel like I invited her over for one purpose and one purpose alone.

If I’m being honest with myself, I would love to kiss her. I would love to touch her. I would love to be with her. I want to look down into her eyes, brightly shining up at me from the bed. And then kiss and devour her. But I cannot let her know this. I cannot let her know that I want her. That would be highly inappropriate and unprofessional and go against everything I stand for as the CEO of Rosser International. I cannot be a hypocrite. I can’t tell employees that there’s a no-fraternization policy at the company and then hook up with one of my employees. Technically, I can because I’m a CEO, and I make the rules and can break them if I want.

Would she even want to hook up? And if she did, how would she feel at the end of our time together? Would we be able to interact afterward? Stop thinking about it, I lecture myself. It’s never going to happen. I sigh as I open my custom cabinet and grab one of my Fender acoustic guitars. I hold it to me, and then pick up one of my other guitars. If the jingle she’s created is simple enough, I might be able to play along with her. I carry both guitars back to the studio and stand at the door, watching her. She’s looking out of the floor-to-ceiling window and staring outside. It is a beautiful view. And it’s a nice day.

That’s one thing I have in every office that I work in. A great view. It’s the only way I can stay and live in the city. Sometimes, my mind drifts, and I like to think, and I’m always motivated and inspired by looking at the skyline. Sometimes, I think I should move to Seattle or Portland and be able to look out at the trees and mountains. What further inspiration would come from being in nature? Maybe one of these days I’ll do it, but not anytime soon.

‘Hey! I have the guitars,’ I say as I finally walk into the room. She turns back to look at me with a small smile on her face.

‘Thanks,’ she says. She’s got on her big, wide glasses, and her hair is in a loose bun again, but I see past that. All I can see are her delicate features and her friendly eyes. Her generous smile. She is light, happy, and full of goodness—she’s beautiful. She is absolutely beautiful. Whether her hair is up or down and whether or not she has glasses on. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it before. She appears timid as she comes toward me. Does she know I’m thinking of pulling that hairband out and taking off her clothes?

‘Two guitars? I’m guessing, one for you?’

‘I figure if the tune is easy enough, I’ll strum along, if you don’t mind.’

‘Oh, it’s plenty easy,’ she says eagerly. ‘Very, very easy.’

She takes the proffered guitar and takes a seat on one of the black leather chairs. I sit in the chair next to her and look over at her.

‘So, what chord are you thinking?’

‘For the jingle or for Rosser Home Goods?’ she asks.

‘Well, I just told you about Rosser Home Goods, so I’d be shocked if you had anything prepared for that.’

‘Oh, I actually came up with something just now,’ she says, laughing and throwing her hair back. She strums the C chord and then makes some adjustments to tune the guitar.

‘Sorry,’ I apologize for the sound. ‘I haven’t played it in a while.’

‘No worries, I can tune yours, as well, if you want me to.’

‘I normally use an electric tuner that I left in my room, so I would be grateful.’

‘Of course,’ she says. She gets to work tuning her guitar, then places it at the side of her chair and takes the guitar from me. As she takes my guitar, our fingers touch and I feel a frisson of electricity pass between us. I know she feels it, as well, because she gasps slightly, and her lips part. I try not to stare at the pinkness of her plump lips. I try not to breathe in her heady, fragrant scent. I’m not sure how much longer I can ignore how she’s making me feel.

‘So… We can start with the jingle,’ she says, strumming some more notes, ‘because that’s probably more pressing, right?’

‘Yeah, it is. I think Lord Chambers would be delighted to hear something very soon.’

‘When you say very soon, how soon do you mean?’ she asks.

‘I mean, within the next couple of days.’

‘The next couple of days?’ She looks shocked by my revelation. ‘What? I don’t know—’

‘If we spend a couple of late nights working on it, we should be able to come up with something.’ I shrug, staring at her, pretending that her eyes didn’t fall to my crotch for a few seconds as I talked about nights.

‘I mean, I guess, but I have to go home, and I have to feed my dog, Johnson, and take him on a walk and—’

‘Bring him over here,’ I say. ‘You can work all day and night, and I’ll feed him and walk him so you can concentrate.’

‘What?’ she says, surprised. ‘No, I can’t do that. He would tear up your place.’ She laughs. ‘But thank you for the offer. We’ll start, and then I’ll go home, and I’ll work at home and—’

‘But I would like to hear the different iterations along the way. I’d love to see your creative process,’ I say as though that’s a normal request. And even though that’s not a hundred percent true about everything that goes on at the company, it is with her. I want to see how she works. I want to see this jingle come to life through her eyes. I know that I just want to be around her, and this is as good of an excuse as any. I’m not even going to question it right now.

‘I just…’ She seems to struggle for an answer, and I can tell she’s nervous.

‘You just what?’ I say, leaning closer toward her. A tendril of her hair falls out of her bun and in front of her face. I reach up and tuck it behind her ear.

‘Oh. Thanks,’ she says, blinking rapidly as she touches her ear and strokes her hair back.

I reach up, take her glasses off, hold them in my hand, and stare into her wide eyes.

‘Can you see me?’ I ask her softly, wondering just how bad her eyesight truly is. Hopefully, she’s not blind as a bat. That would be unfortunate.

‘Yes.’ She nods, blinking even more rapidly now. ‘I can see people who are close to me; I just can’t see when it’s far away. It’s blurry.’

‘I see.’ I smile and move my face closer so she can see into my eyes.

‘I’m getting contacts soon though,’ she says, then shakes her head. ‘I mean, not that you care about that or anything. I just… wait, why did you take my glasses off?’ She looks at me with rounded eyes and lips, and I can’t resist.

‘Because I wanted to do this,’ I say as I press my lips to hers. After her initial hesitance when my lips made contact, she kisses me back. I know this is the worst thing I could be doing, but I can no longer resist her and how she makes me feel. My right hand reaches up, tugs on her hairband, and pulls it out so that her hair falls, cascading down her shoulders.

I run my fingers through her locks, and she gasps as she reaches up and touches the side of my face. I deepen our kiss. My tongue slips into her mouth, and she kisses me back eagerly, her tongue dancing a waltz with mine. I hear the guitar fall to the side, but I don’t care. I pull her up off her chair and lift her onto my lap. She moans but doesn’t resist. My fingers skim down her back and toward the side of her body, coming up and caressing her breast. She presses herself into me, and I groan. There’s no stopping this moment now. No matter what my subconscious screams at me about fraternization policies and work relationships. Sometimes, rules are made to be broken.