Read Online Scorned (From the Inside Out #1) by S. L. Scott - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: S. L. Scott
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beautiful.”
I glance over my shoulder.
His eyes are on me.
I blink and turn back to face the painting. “Yes, it’s pure passion. Above the bed is the perfect place for it to hang.”
He steps closer, silently admiring… the painting or me, I’m not sure. His fingers brush against my elbow. His voice comes out lower, “Come with me. I’ll show you where I was thinking the Rusque could go.”
Liking his touch when his hands are on me, I follow him into another room sticking close. Much like Austin, his office is breathtaking. The room is identical to his bedroom with two full walls of windows, but this room has no curtains to block the world out. He stands back, leaning against the door as I explore the room. The other two walls are white and bare, needing something, craving something vibrant.
“I think the painting should go right here. It feels right.” I turn around abruptly and ask in all seriousness, “Do you use this room?”
“All the time.”
I release my relief through an exhale. “Good. I would hate for that piece to be abandoned in some room that’s never used, where it would never be seen.”
“So would I. Your passion for art is very sexy.”
“Art is sexy.”
“Indeed.”
I sip then gulp my drink, eyeing him, admiring his lean and fit figure. “It must be hard to date a tycoon,” I joke, the bubbles going to my head. “The world is at your feet, literally right outside the window and down thirty-seven flights.”
“I’ve never dated a tycoon,” he retorts. “So I wouldn’t know.”
I laugh and he smiles at the sound. Sipping my drink, each bubble bursts in my mouth. I walk to a window and look out. “It’s a long way to fall.”
“No further than Heaven and you survived that.” Laughing out loud, I try to contain the roll of my eyes that wants to escape from his corny comment. “I’m sorry. I always wanted to know what it was like to say one of those awful pick-up lines and you gave me the perfect set up.”
“I think you’ve been carrying that around in your back pocket for about fifteen years too long,” I tease.
He grins. “Maybe longer. I’ve been interested in girls for a long time now, Jules.”
“I just bet you have.” I punctuate my words with a wink.
Standing in front of him, the silliness between us alters into something more, something with depth and it scares me. I swallow hard, trying to change it back by asking, “Do you believe in love at first sight, Austin, or should I walk by again?” Together, we laugh this time from my bad pickup line. Walking past him, I bump his hip with mine playfully, then with my smirk still in place, I say, “Now feed me, I’m hungry.”
Following behind, he says, “If I knew you better I’d…” but catches himself and stops.
I lean against the wall between two bold, modern paintings, a bit breathless, a lot playful. “You’d what? What would you do if we knew each other better?”
His feet stop in front of mine and a roguish smile plays on his lips. “If we knew each other better, I would have slapped your ass for that pun.”
“Consider us good friends then, but let’s skip the ass slap, even as appealing as that sounds…” His eyebrow arches, his body leans forward, one hand stationed above my head. Our breathing picks up, but also deepens, both of us wanting more. I finish by saying, “… And just kiss me.”
His hand is on my neck, sliding upward over my jaw, caressing my cheek. “You are a fascinating woman, Ms. Weston.” His lips press against mine. They’re soft, yet purposeful. Full and wonderful. My eyes are closed, enjoying, savoring, wanting more. He pulls back and our eyes slowly open. The tip of his finger glides along my bottom lip. Leaning in again for a quick, sweet kiss, he says, “You said something about being hungry—”
“Yes, starving.” In more ways than one right now. My body craving him more than food.
He takes my hand and we walk back to the kitchen.
I glance over my shoulder.
His eyes are on me.
I blink and turn back to face the painting. “Yes, it’s pure passion. Above the bed is the perfect place for it to hang.”
He steps closer, silently admiring… the painting or me, I’m not sure. His fingers brush against my elbow. His voice comes out lower, “Come with me. I’ll show you where I was thinking the Rusque could go.”
Liking his touch when his hands are on me, I follow him into another room sticking close. Much like Austin, his office is breathtaking. The room is identical to his bedroom with two full walls of windows, but this room has no curtains to block the world out. He stands back, leaning against the door as I explore the room. The other two walls are white and bare, needing something, craving something vibrant.
“I think the painting should go right here. It feels right.” I turn around abruptly and ask in all seriousness, “Do you use this room?”
“All the time.”
I release my relief through an exhale. “Good. I would hate for that piece to be abandoned in some room that’s never used, where it would never be seen.”
“So would I. Your passion for art is very sexy.”
“Art is sexy.”
“Indeed.”
I sip then gulp my drink, eyeing him, admiring his lean and fit figure. “It must be hard to date a tycoon,” I joke, the bubbles going to my head. “The world is at your feet, literally right outside the window and down thirty-seven flights.”
“I’ve never dated a tycoon,” he retorts. “So I wouldn’t know.”
I laugh and he smiles at the sound. Sipping my drink, each bubble bursts in my mouth. I walk to a window and look out. “It’s a long way to fall.”
“No further than Heaven and you survived that.” Laughing out loud, I try to contain the roll of my eyes that wants to escape from his corny comment. “I’m sorry. I always wanted to know what it was like to say one of those awful pick-up lines and you gave me the perfect set up.”
“I think you’ve been carrying that around in your back pocket for about fifteen years too long,” I tease.
He grins. “Maybe longer. I’ve been interested in girls for a long time now, Jules.”
“I just bet you have.” I punctuate my words with a wink.
Standing in front of him, the silliness between us alters into something more, something with depth and it scares me. I swallow hard, trying to change it back by asking, “Do you believe in love at first sight, Austin, or should I walk by again?” Together, we laugh this time from my bad pickup line. Walking past him, I bump his hip with mine playfully, then with my smirk still in place, I say, “Now feed me, I’m hungry.”
Following behind, he says, “If I knew you better I’d…” but catches himself and stops.
I lean against the wall between two bold, modern paintings, a bit breathless, a lot playful. “You’d what? What would you do if we knew each other better?”
His feet stop in front of mine and a roguish smile plays on his lips. “If we knew each other better, I would have slapped your ass for that pun.”
“Consider us good friends then, but let’s skip the ass slap, even as appealing as that sounds…” His eyebrow arches, his body leans forward, one hand stationed above my head. Our breathing picks up, but also deepens, both of us wanting more. I finish by saying, “… And just kiss me.”
His hand is on my neck, sliding upward over my jaw, caressing my cheek. “You are a fascinating woman, Ms. Weston.” His lips press against mine. They’re soft, yet purposeful. Full and wonderful. My eyes are closed, enjoying, savoring, wanting more. He pulls back and our eyes slowly open. The tip of his finger glides along my bottom lip. Leaning in again for a quick, sweet kiss, he says, “You said something about being hungry—”
“Yes, starving.” In more ways than one right now. My body craving him more than food.
He takes my hand and we walk back to the kitchen.
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