Billionaire Romance Boxed Set 2(157)

Then I slipped the thin nightgown on, pulling it down my frame until the spaghetti straps settled on my shoulders. I shifted around, setting my breasts into place in the slightly cupped front. The skirt stopped barely below my crotch, offering a tantalizing peek at the lower curves of my butt in the back. I desperately needed to look in a mirror, so I ran to the bathroom to check myself out.

My God! I looked so cute and sexy. The chest part of the babydoll was black and shear, practically translucent, and I could see my nipples through the fabric, firm and pronounced. The rest was solid, red with tiny black dots, and a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. The skirt barely covered anything and when I twirled around in front of the mirror, admiring myself, it fluttered up and revealed my butt and the split lips of my pussy with a faint bit of fabric between them.

I was ravishing! Or, I liked to think I was. I wasn’t particularly ravishing for any one person, but if someone walked into the house right now with absolutely no intent on having sex with me, I thought I could change their mind rather easily. Not that I’d do that, but the idea that I could had appeal. Some sex kitten, a sensual woman of lust and beauty, inciting roaring fires of passion inside anyone who looked at me.

I laughed to myself and thought about my recent photography session with Asher. I hadn’t worn anything special for that, nothing too out of the ordinary anyways, but I’d managed to accidentally seduce him then. I felt somewhat badly about it, and he did, too, but at the time I’d needed it. Wanted him, desired him, and he must have felt the same. Now, if he saw me, what would he do? His photography hobby was a real thing, not a ploy to get women into bed, but disregarding that I was pretty sure I could convince him to skip the pictures altogether in this outfit.

Unfortunately there was no Asher, nor any pictures or a camera, but only books. I hurried downstairs and then down again, into the quiet basement library. My babydoll skirt flipped up as I rushed into the library, but I didn’t care.

Now, what book to read? I didn’t even know what books he owned. Too many, by far. I wanted something steamy and sexy, though, to fit my nightclothes. Something sensual and passionate and…

I saw the spine of a book with a picture of a woman facing away on it. She wore a backless red dress and had a rose tattooed from between her shoulder blades all the way down to the small of her back. Black hair, mysterious. Kushiel’s Chosen, by Jacqueline Carey. I pulled it out of the bookcase and read the back cover.

Some kind of fantasy, epic by the look of it, with a bit of mystery and intrigue. Vague insinuations of saucy seduction, too. Unfortunately this was the second book in this series, so said the inside cover, but I didn’t have time for the first. I didn’t even know if I’d like this one, but I figured I’d read for a few hours, test it out, and then make my choice. If I liked it, I’d find the first book in the series and read that tomorrow.

The book devoured me. A historical romance of sorts, with some godly twists. I sat on the couch, covered in blankets, entranced by the words. I didn’t know much about Jacqueline Carey, but I liked how she wrote. Very poetic and pleasant sounding sentences, but not too far and over the top. Just enough, just right.

Absorbed in the book, I barely realized something in the library was wrong. Something off, a bit of a change, obvious if I cared to notice but imperceptible in my current, rapt state.

That all changed when one of the bookcases by the center of the room swung away from the wall and someone stepped out through a hidden doorway. I looked up, saw the man, dropped the book, and screamed.

Asher laughed. “What are you screaming at?” he asked.

My scream tapered off but my eyes remained wide. I stared at him standing in the middle of his library. He pulled on the edge of the swung open bookcase and pushed it back against the wall. It clicked into a secret casing on the floor, looking as if it had never opened to begin with.

I stared at him, never blinking.

“What?” he asked.

“What are you doing what was that why do you have a secret passageway in your guest home what the heck?” No time for coherent thought, I rambled all my questions out at once.

“You remember The Goonies, right? I told you I always wanted to be like that boy with the gadgets when I was younger? I don’t think I ever really grew out of that.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. “That’s your answer?”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be in the library, either.”

“You told me I could stay in your guest house for the night, and this library is in the guest house…”

“I suppose so. What are you reading?”