The Billionaire's Bitch

Thirty-Eight

I cautiously entered Adrian's master bedroom, looking all around as I did.

I could hear the shower running from the attached bathroom, so I had some time to acclimate to the room before he reentered.

It was tasteful and modern, just like everything he owned. The wooden floors and fixtures were dark walnut, the walls were painted charcoal gray, and all the furnishings were espresso colored.

The tall windows had long drapes that were pushed back to expose a swatch of city view beyond; gold sparks against inky black.

Almost unwillingly, my eyes finally landed on the bed.

The cyclopean, sinfully seductive looking bed.

It was absolutely humongous, draped in what looked like dark red satin sheets, with a red and gold comforter strewn on top, some big, fluffy pillows topping it all.

I gulped as I ran my eyes over that bed. It looked like I could get lost in it.

I made myself look away, looking to the fireplace with the TV above, across from the end of the bed. There was a sofa there with a fleece throw blanket and I was eying it when the door behind me opened and my boss entered the room.

###

"Well, this couch looks pretty comfy."

I turned around and gasped like a prude when I saw Adrian standing there, amid a cloud of steam from the bathroom billowing out around him, and dressed only in a towel.

My eyes skated down his pale, perfectly sculpted torso. He was devoid of body hair and his skin was consequently completely smooth except for a soft brown trail of hair disappearing into the white terry cloth he had wrapped around his hips.

I convulsively licked my lips. "Uhm, so...yeah."

What had I been talking about?

Oh yeah, the sleeping situation.

"I-I don't mind taking the couch..." I stuttered.

He raised his eyebrow, absently drying his hair with a second towel. "Don't be ridiculous." He crossed the room to me and I could barely breathe as he stood there, a few inches from me, half naked and dripping wet. "You wanted to sleep here to feel safe, yes? And I imagine that your idea of comfort consisted of a physical interaction between us, am I wrong?"

I still couldn't swallow.

"Make yourself comfy." He persisted. "I sleep on the left side for the most part."

And he went back into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

I was able to breathe again.

I shakily shuffled to the right side of the bed and plugged my phone charger into the wall outlet by the nightstand.

I checked my phone for messages as I sat nervously on the edge of the bed. Of course, it felt dangerously comfortable.

No new messages.

Now didn't that just figure?

Adrian was taking his time in the bathroom and I imagined him shaving. I tried not to wonder if he had jacked off in the shower.

Blushing now, I finally got beneath the comforter and rearranged the pillows behind me so that I was comfortable. I pulled my phone into my lap to check my emails.

I had nothing interesting going on, just the general newsletters on books, short story and poem contests, writing conferences, art exhibits, and deal offers to Castle and wine stores.