13 All NEW Erotic Romances
by Bestselling Authors to Benefit Diabetes
Lexi Blake, Mari Carr, JS Cooper, Nicole Edwards, Karen Erickson, Megan Hart, J Kenner, Julia Kent, Elisabeth Grace, Lauren Hawkeye, Nina Lane, Roni Loren, and Avery Aster, with Lisa Renee Jones
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THE BILLIONAIRE YOU KNOW By Lauren Hawkeye
I turned my attention back to the masseuse who, though rail thin, had hauled in and set up a portable massage table like it was nothing. Her arms were seriously toned, making me wince about the way a single day of skiing had reduced me to a mass of pain.
She smiled at me, pale gold hair brushing her shoulders as she tucked a pristine white sheet over the mattress. “I’m Marcie.” She tucked a strand of that silky hair behind an ear before offering me a hand. “I assume your boyfriend will be watching?”
“Uh, not my boyfriend.” I cast a glance at Jake, but he didn’t seem to be paying any attention. His fingers were already tapping over his phone. Probably just brokering some multi-million dollar deal. No biggie.
“Oh.” Marcie frowned a bit, pursed her lips. “Will you still be okay with the massage being here, then? I need you mostly naked. I really can’t work as well with clothing as a barrier.”
“Um…” I cast another furtive look at Jake. As I’d expected, the word naked had caught his attention and he was staring at us expectantly.
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Pervert.”
“You know it.” He grinned back, then shrugged. “And you know, I’ve seen boobs before.”
Normally, this would have just made me grin—I was certainly not a virgin, myself. Jake and I had never been together, that way—we’d just never thought of each other like that, no matter how many significant others we each seemed to go through.
Still, something in his simple comment stung in a way it never had before.
The billionaire is not for you, I reminded myself. Jake was my best and oldest friend, to be sure. But I would hate the herd of paparazzi that followed him everywhere, hate the media frenzy that erupted every time he was spotted in public with a new woman. I would hate pretty much everything about his lifestyle, actually—I’d always been more of a chicken wings and beer kind of girl, hold the caviar and Dom Perignon.
I told myself to get over it. He was most certainly not experiencing these same strange surges of emotion. To him, I was just Liz, his buddy.
Not his type. Not his type at all.
“It’s fine.” Turning, I smiled at the massage therapist. Marcie nodded and looked at me expectantly, and I realized that I was supposed to strip, like, now.
“Sorry.” Awkwardly, feeling exposed, I tugged at the top half of my long underwear. It caught on my ponytail as I yanked it over my head.
I could have sworn I felt Jake’s eyes boring into my naked back, but when I shifted, started to pull down my matching fleecy bottoms, I saw that he was focused entirely on his work. This caused a streak of annoyance to stab me in the tender part of my gut. Yes, we were just friends, but I was a woman, and I was getting naked. Jake loved naked women, almost more than he loved his mother.