The Beautician and the Billionaire 7: Scene 6

The scene after this one won’t be posted because it’s sexy sex. Be sure to purchase it at:

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Conor stared into the darkness. Charisse had opened his door only to close it again and leave a couple hours earlier. He couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t a mind reader. He’d wanted to invite her in, but he hadn’t even been able to look at her. It wasn’t because of his headache—that was subsiding. He couldn’t bear to see fear in her eyes. He wasn’t a murderer, and he’d never hit her like that ass-hat Josh. But her expression at the banquet had said she thought otherwise.

He rolled over onto his side. She was right down the hall. She’d agreed to sex any time he wanted, and he wanted her now.

But she might not want him.

He stayed in bed, picturing her running away from him at the banquet.

“She’s not running now.” Raul’s words ran through his mind.

He’d already wasted a whole day with her. Ever since he’d seen the picture of her on Roy’s phone, he’d wanted to bring her to the mansion, away from the craziness of the world.

He pushed himself out of bed and stood. Dizziness made him sway, but soon he could walk across the room to his dresser. He opened a drawer and felt around for the sleep mask he sometimes used. When he found it, he headed for the door completely nude and fully erect.

A little light filtered up into the hall from a sconce on the wall of the staircase. He strode toward her room, looking only at her door and not the room on the other side of the hall from his. Even though she had no reason to, he hoped Charisse wore one of the sheer nightgowns he’d bought her.

He rested his hand on the doorknob and tightened his other hand around the mask. Maybe he should just hang the mask on the door. No. He needed her to trust him.

He turned the knob and stepped inside. Moonlight shone through the slats of the blinds and gave her face an ethereal glow. He caught his breath at the sight of her bare shoulders. The rest of her body was covered with the sheet. He crossed the floor, unable to believe that she’d gone to bed nude like she hoped he’d visit her.

She breathed softly in her sleep. He lifted the sheet and felt himself harden even more. Perfect breasts. Perfect curves. He slid in under the sheet and rested his hand on her belly, and he breathed in her scent of vanilla and roses.

“Charisse,” he whispered.

“Conor.” Her hand came up and rested on the back of his head.

The touch made his head woozy with emotions he didn’t want to name or think about. He just wanted to stay in the physical.

“Can I have you tonight?” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” she said without any grudge. Like she wanted to be his.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. But that answer was much longer in coming.