Mr. Forrester: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Read Free

tightening under the rough tickle of the scrubber, and her heart sped up as she pinched one of them through the fabric. Dropping the scrubber, she ran her fingertips over her breasts, cupping them and massaging them in the way she wished she could have someone else do. She moaned thickly in need, her mind filled with images of a fantasy man who could do things to her right there in the shower, fulfilling her desires. Her thighs were pressed tightly together, the soft ache in between calling for her touch. Erica was so tempted to reach down and take care of her own needs, to slip her fingers inside and bring herself the much needed release that her body was aching for, but she decided against it. Maybe after dinner, when she could afford the time to truly bring herself to the point of full climax and could use the heady orgasmic rush to push her fully into sleep, but not yet. Besides, she had made it a bit of a game with herself, to see if she could control her own desires until she was ready to give in to them.
    Shutting the water off, Erica quickly dried her body before looking at her hair in the mirror. While her wavy locks were the blessing of what her grandmother claimed was a Cherokee ancestor, she still had to give her hair much more attention than some of the models she had worked with, whose blonde and soft browns needed only a simple brushing, or the Asian girls whose hair practically stayed sleek and perfect constantly. It was thick, and it did require a little more maintenance to keep it looking good.
    Finding her wide toothed comb, she worked slowly, getting all the tangles out until her hair hung down in the shiny waves she preferred. The most difficult task completed, she then rubbed coconut oil over her skin, as the cool London air dried it out far too much for her comfort, before pulling on a simple skirt and a sweater. While part of her wanted to dress up and see if she could find a man to help her with the sexual urges still stirring within her, she wasn't in the mood to deal with high heels or any of the other things needed to attract a man's eye. Glancing at herself in the mirror again, she thought she looked good enough to find a seat in the hotel bar, which supposedly had lots of good comfort food.
    Making her way down the elevator and through the hotel lobby, she waved at the few people who she recognized. Thankfully, the Grange Hotel was a classic five star hotel, traditionally decorated and very upper crust British. Most of the fashionistas preferred to stay in much less expensive and more trendier places. The Grange would not tolerate drunken model orgies, which she'd heard some of the girls engaged in, especially during the Paris and Milan shows. She'd never been that sort of person, even during the days she walked the runway, preferring instead to sit in her room and read instead of party. She'd earned her bachelor's degree that way, and it had given her the educational background she needed to make EW work. Removing herself from the fashion scene, if even just for a few hours to sleep, was refreshing for her, and she made it a point to book a hotel that was quiet and reserved.
    Making her way across to the bar, she found it was relatively busy, with quite a few men in suits and women in dresses already gathered around the long granite bar, flirting and drinking away the stresses of the work week. Thankfully, there was a small table near the window which overlooked the busy streets outside, the River Thames off in the distance. It was relaxing, and Erica felt herself settle into the plush chair gratefully. The waitress came over and took her order, a pint of Guinness. Erica always lived by the rule of When in Rome, do as the Romans , especially when it came to food and alcohol.
    While waiting for her pint, Erica scanned the crowd, wondering if there was anyone she knew. She didn't, but there was one man standing near the center of the granite that caught her attention almost immediately. He was