Read Billionaire Novelist's Fiery Debutante for Free Online Page B

was—he knew he’d still want to bed her.
    Bed her… The thought of their first night together brought back fleeting memories of her bottom squeezed against his. Or her arm draped across his back. Or her face so close to his, that when he abruptly awoke in the middle of the night, a tendril of her hair had wafted upon his brow. He’d carefully returned it to its rightful owner, but only after studying her face and memorizing every line until he thought he’d not be able to sleep without stirring those soft lips with his.
    She’d been wearing that silly tank top again, only this time she’d removed her bikini, and clearly visible beneath the flimsy material had been the outline of her bosom, gently rising and falling with her even breathing. He’d wantonly stared at the soft swell of her breasts for what felt like hours before finally falling asleep again.
    The effect she had on his manhood was devastating. He’d awakened with the hardest morning wood he’d ever experienced, and when he discovered that they’d involuntarily drifted into a spooning position, he’d had the hardest time not to roll her into his arms, and ravish that delectable body of hers.
    This time, however, watching her smile up at him from across the terrace, he simply couldn’t control himself any longer.
    She’d asked for this—correction: she’d been begging for this—and now she was going to get exactly what she deserved.

CHAPTER 11

    When she saw that great, big brute coming her way, Chloe couldn’t deny experiencing a thrill of excitement. Nevertheless, she did what any sensible girl would do in a similar situation: she picked up the ice bucket she’d been using to keep her mango juice chilled and hurled it at the incoming Josh. The bucket hit his head with a resounding clang, but not before pelting the harried writer with its contents, consisting of three gallons of ice water and half-melted cubes.
    Josh let out a surprised grunt when the twin effect of the ice and bucket hit him in the face.
    Chloe, meanwhile, who’d correctly assumed he wouldn’t take kindly to this treatment, had decided to look for safer ground, and had sprinted to the other side of the pool.
    “Chloe Thomson!” Josh boomed. “You come back here this instant!”
    She knew that sticking out her tongue at him was a childish thing to do, especially for a woman who was about to turn thirty, but she just couldn’t help herself. For some reason she couldn’t even begin to fathom, this man brought out the worst in her.
    “Catch me if you can!” she hollered for good measure.
    It had taken Josh three laps around the pool, a screeching and tittering Chloe easily keeping a safe distance before he finally sank into a deck chair and promptly gave up the chase.
    Shaking his head sadly, he grumbled, “You win. I’ll press the button and clear out. This isn’t working for me. At all.” And with his finger poised over the emergency button, he heaved a deep sigh and pressed.
    At least he would have pressed if Chloe hadn’t slapped his hand away at the very last moment.
    “Hey!” he yelled, annoyed.
    She flopped down on the chair next to him. “I’m sorry, Josh. I truly am. I’ve been acting like a brat.” She placed a tentative hand on his arm, and they both stared down at the panic buttons on their wrists, his a cerulean blue, hers a fluorescent pink. “Don’t go. I promise I’ll behave from now on.”
    He slumped a bit, and for a moment she thought he was going to reject her apology. Instead, he said, “I’m suffering from the worst case of writer’s block I’ve ever had, and frankly I’m more than a little terrified right now. If I don’t get a decent idea right speedily, my career is toast.”
    She looked up in surprise. “But I thought you said you were a bestselling writer?”
    He gave a curt snort. “So what? You’re on top one minute, gone the next. Have you never heard that age-old credo ‘You’re only as good as your last hit’? My