The Beautician and the Billionaire Episode 5: Scene Takeover

Good morning! I know I promised another post yesterday sharing the beauty blogs I follow. I’m sorry I didn’t get it posted. It was a really bad day, and I’ll just leave it at that. I have time at the end of the week to do another post about beauty blogs.

But now, we’re coming to the close of Episode 5. Emotions are flaring as Conor and Charisse figure out how their moving forward. Enjoy!


Conor listened as Mei requested he come in to talk to Charisse after the salon closed. He wasn’t going to allow Charisse to set the appointments anymore. He’d see her tomorrow just to make a point.

“I’m busy tonight. I’ll come by in the morning before you open.”

“Um, could you hold on a second while I get her?”

He was switched to Mozart music before he could say no. He could hang up, but his desire to hear Charisse’s voice got the better of him. Using all of his business tricks on her was going to be near impossible.

“Mr. Grishin,” said Charisse after a moment, “I need to talk to you today about the salon. I know you have ideas about how you want to run it, and I want to hear them.”

Mr. Grishin. Acknowledging his concerns. The whole speech made him smile. He wanted to see her now, but he wanted it on his terms.

“I can meet with you today if you come to my office.”

“Fine. I’ll be by after my last client.”

“Don’t pin your hair up. You’re not a corporate drone.”

The line went dead. He knew she would hate him telling her how to do her hair. He didn’t know if she’d pin it up just to spite him or leave it down in the hopes of setting a tone of compromise for the meeting. He couldn’t wait to see which one she chose.

The rest of the office, including Jack, left long before she arrived. Conor spent his time furthering his research on the salon business and pacing in front of the windows looking out over the city when he couldn’t concentrate.

When the sky grew dark he moved the extra chairs out of his office and put them behind Jack’s desk. He left the couch where it was in his office at the back of the wall and his own chair behind his desk. He closed all the blinds to the windows that showed the rest of the office. He wanted the meeting private, even though it appeared everyone had left.

It’d been two days since their time on the swing. He’d craved her ever since she’d left. He wondered if he was really annoyed with all the obstacles or if they were just making him desire her more.

When a knock sounded on his door, he turned away from the Empire State Building. “Come in,” he said. The door opened.

Charisse entered in a crimson dress with a square neckline, revealing the tops of her ample and perfect breasts. When he dragged his gaze away, he saw the dress hugged her hips and ended mid-thigh. He clenched his fists against the desire to tug the skirt up. A gold necklace decorated her neck, and small gold hoops hung from her ears. Her hair was pulled back, though a strand of curls hung down by her cheek.

He forgot he’d invited her for business. He had to quell his cock and plant his feet firmly to keep from crossing the room and taking her.

“I told you to keep your hair down,” he growled. They were the only words that came to mind.

“You told me not to pin it up. I braided it.” She drew a braid around her shoulder and dropped her hand to her hip. “Besides, telling me how to dress or do my hair is not in our contract.”

“I believe it says, ‘All stylists will wear appropriate hairstyles and make-up.’ I deem your hair most appropriate down.”

Her face stayed stoic. She strutted to his desk and placed her gold clutch on top of it. She held his gaze as her hand slowly rose to the end of the braid. She rolled off the band that had been wrapped around it and set it on the desk. She tugged at her hair and combed her fingers through until locks of curls bounced freely to her back and shoulders.


“Can we discuss the salon now?” she asked.

His gaze slid down from her dark eyes, paused at her breasts and then again at her hips, slid over her curvy legs and ended at her gold pumps.

“Yes,” he said, though his brain thought, ‘no’. He crossed the room to his desk and sat down, keeping his gaze on her the whole time. His pants tightened once he was seated and no longer concerned with keeping his cock down.

Charisse looked around for a chair but didn’t comment about the lack of one. Instead she sucked in her already flat stomach and rolled her shoulders back, which caused her breasts to jut out more.

“So what are your ideas in regards to my salon?” she asked.

“It’s my salon, and they’re orders, not ideas.”

“You may be the current owner, but you need me running it. My lady luvs are very loyal. If I decide to leave, I imagine at least half will follow me. There’s no non-compete in the contract.”

She’d done her homework. Still, he didn’t think she’d ever walk away from Ma Charisse. His cock stiffened more in anticipation of the coming battle.

“I’m not too worried. You couldn’t come up with the funds to buy me out. And I know you don’t want to live off your trust fund.”

She glared at him before she said, “I could still get hired at another salon. I know of several openings. And my clients would follow. You’re not the only one who thinks my hands are magic.”

His breath hitched. A low blow. He didn’t like to ever think about her touching someone else. As he stared into her eyes and then took in her body again, the craving to possess her became almost unbearable. He’d tried being the nice boyfriend who took care of her. He would’ve given her everything, especially her fucking salon, but she’d refused it all and accepted a date with another man.

He shot up and knocked his chair over. Her eyes stayed on his. She appeared unbreakable, completely different than the other morning when he thought one wrong word might make her crumble. He preferred her strong like this.

He stepped around the desk, stopped right next to her and brushed her hair away from her ear. He trailed his finger down her arms, gratified by the goosebumps that erupted on her skin. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, “Did you enjoy your time in my penthouse?”

Her body shifted in a quiver. She kept her face forward as if he still sat behind his desk. “You know I did.”

“No, I don’t. You ran away and then let your dad set you up on a date with another man, one of my employees even.” He heard the steel edge in his voice as his anger grew at the recollection. “Why did you do that to me?”

His hand slid around her waist and pulled her toward him until his erection rubbed up against her hip. His other hand slid up from her waist, grazed over her breast and stopped on her cheek, forcing her to look at him.

Her veneer finally cracked, and her eyes pleaded with his. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted my salon back without feeling indebted to you for your generosity.”

He leaned in as if he would kiss her, but at the last second, he turned her head so he could whisper in her ear again. “I’ll make one final offer for your salon. You can have it back if you agree to be mine for three weeks.”


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