Confronted (Beauty And The Billionaire Geek Book 1) Read Free

out, analyzing each nuance and curve. I liked it. I liked it a lot.
    There wasn’t any reason I couldn’t see her in person again. Why shouldn’t I get to see her? I clicked onto a picture that showed a full-frontal  shot with her legs open. Her body had been shaved, and her strawberry-blond hair tumbled around her shoulders.
    I remembered what it was like to lick her there. I stared at her picture and unzipped my pants. I needed to see her again. I would see her again. No matter how many women threw themselves at me now, there would never be another Zoe. It would always be her. 
    I’d known she would be at the benefit auction. Marcus liked to bring his models with him to those types of functions. It did present a kind of image when he was seen publicly with such beautiful women. Zoe hadn’t come last year. He’d used a different model.
    When I’d seen her tonight, I half expected her to walk right up to me and start a conversation. I thought maybe we’d have sex in the limo on the way back to my apartment. When she barely made eye contact with me, I realized that perhaps there were still issues between us that I had not accounted for.
    I stared at the line of Zoe’s shaved slit. I licked my lips then frowned, rising from my chair to the bar at the back of the room. I poured myself a shot of top shelf vodka with cranberry juice on ice, took a long swig, and slammed the glass down on the counter.
    My cock still stood at attention, itching inside my tuxedo pants to be abused. I walked into the bedroom, sat at the end of my bed, and kicked off my shoes. They fell with a thud on the highly polished black hardwood floors. I slipped out of the rest of my clothes and stood naked in the middle of the room.
    Zoe wasn’t the only one who had changed physically. Being a billionaire afforded me a great many things. Two years ago, I’d started working out in my private gym every day for an hour before lunch and an hour before bed. I’d been able to sculpt and tone myself into the kind of guy who used to beat me up in high school.
    My shoulders and arms rippled with taunt musculature. My pectorals rose over my heart and curved downward into my defined abdominal muscles, pointing toward my towering, erect cock. Even my face had lost its youthful roundness. It had been replaced with a well-defined square jaw and chiseled cheekbones.
    I rubbed my hand down my abs, enjoying the sensation of hard muscle as my hand sank down to grip my throbbing dick.  I leaned against the wall next to Zoe’s photograph.
    My hand moved slowly, enjoying the buildup of sensation. I closed my eyes and memories of Zoe swam in my mind. The swirl of her dress, her hair in the rain, the feeling of her hand on my shoulder when I worked.
    When I opened my eyes, they fell on the photograph of her exposed skin, her tight nipples, and her passive half smile. Tension mounted inside my loins as I pumped my hand more swiftly.
    In my mind’s eye, I sank inside her and watched the light in her eyes as she whispered my name.

Chapter Three: Zoe
    If humiliation could kill a person, I’d be dead. The idea of Billy having my nude photograph made me want to absolutely die. Guilt and shame choked my throat, and I had to suck back vomit twice in the taxi ride home.
    I stumbled from the cab and climbed the steps of my building until I made it to my second-floor apartment. Fumbling with the keys, I finally found the right one, slid it into the lock, and turned. Inside, I flipped on the lights and collapsed on my pale floral print couch.
    After five years, this was how he saw me again? I rubbed my hand over my face. Drunkenness numbed my body. I moaned, “Why,” and hit the couch with a whimper.
    I’d never planned to be at this modeling thing for so long. Definitely not for five years and still sharing a two-bedroom apartment with Stacy on Capitol Hill. I lay down on the couch and curled up in a fetal position, which was not particularly easy in a tight ass designer