Waking Up with a Billionaire (The Overnight Billionaires Book 3) by Katie Lane Page B

but a pair of tight white boxer briefs, Grayson was more than just hot. He was molten. Or maybe the sight of the impressive bulge stretching the seam in the front and the nice butt stretching the white cotton in the back had just made her feel molten. Sort of like her insides had turned to magma and were waiting to erupt.
    It took his slipping on a pair of ripped, faded jeans for her brain to function again. Although it wasn’t functioning very fast. Not when he still looked so good. The jeans molded to his butt and legs, and his back muscles flexed as he picked up his cell phone and tapped the screen. Hard-core rap music came from the speaker on the nightstand, but not loud enough that she couldn’t hear his commands.
    “Get on the bed.”
    “Excuse me?”
    He sent her an exasperated look as he moved a floor lamp closer to the bed and turned it on. “If we’re going to do this, then you need to follow directions. Now get on the bed. I want you on your stomach with your head by the headboard and your ass toward me.” He grabbed the covers and jerked them to the floor.
    “I don’t think…,” she started, but he cut her off.
    “It’s not your job to think. Just take orders.”
    After Zac she had sworn that she would never take orders from a boyfriend again. But Grayson wasn’t her boyfriend. At the moment he was her photographer—soon to be her employer if she could get him to paint her. So she crawled onto the mattress and tried to follow his instructions. Unfortunately, she had never modeled before and didn’t have a clue how to arrange her arms and legs. She ended up keeping her arms at her sides and her legs together…like a circus performer getting ready to be shot out of a cannon.
    She heard an exasperated groan before the mattress sagged and a pair of lean, muscled thighs in ripped jeans straddled her. Pinned, she could do nothing but lie there as he rearranged her limbs with hands that felt as hot as the spot between her legs. His fingers encircled her wrists and lifted her arms so they curved around her head. He leaned in and spoke against her ear, his breath hot and spicy. “Close your eyes and don’t move a muscle.”
    He didn’t have to worry. She had no muscle. She was just a puddle of tingly sensations. Fortunately, he released her wrists and got off. Although a second later his hand was back, leaving a trail of heat as he bent one knee and angled her leg to the side until she felt completely exposed. There was a pause, and just the thought of him looking at her made Chloe feel vulnerable and…anticipatory. Which was crazy. She was not having sex with Grayson Beaumont. Not only because he didn’t like her but also because she was taking a break from men. All men. But mostly arrogant bad boys. And even though he hadn’t been a bad boy, Grayson was a bad boy now.
    A very, very bad boy.
    Her breath hitched when he slipped a warm finger inside the elastic edge of her panties and tugged. He did the same to the other side, leaving her with exposed butt cheeks and a satiny wedgie that deliciously abraded the heated spot between her legs. She bit her lip to keep from groaning and waited for his next touch…actually craved it. But instead there was another long stretch of silence.
    “Is something wrong?” she croaked out in a voice she didn’t recognize.
    “Nothing,” he said. “You’re perfect—I mean the pose. The pose is perfect.”
    Before she could think too much about his words, he got off the bed. Only a second later there was a camera click, followed by a succession of staccato clicks.
    “Roll to your back,” he ordered. She did and found him standing on the bed, looking down at her with an intensity that left her breathless. “Knee bent. Hands over your head. That’s it. Keep your eyelids half closed and lips slightly parted.” His gaze lowered to her mouth, and she could almost feel those indigo orbs lasering right through her. “Wet your lips,” he said, his voice softer and