Rush (Billionaire Bared: Rush) (Erotic Romance) Read Online Free Page B

over from my old place.” I tried to think of what street was parallel to my old apartment.
    “And the name of the street is?”
    “Lillian, you know I’m bad with street names.”
    That much was true.
    But as far as I could tell, no one seemed to know I was living at the boss’s pool house. The only problem was I got a little lonely. Eric Gambit was not kidding when he said he was never home. And the mysterious butler, who I’d only heard of, strictly spent his time on the main property. I wasn’t about to become the unwanted guest and trouble him. No, I would just keep to myself, and in turn, keep myself out of trouble.
    I didn’t even masturbate – although I wanted to. It felt too strange to pleasure yourself when you were a guest at someone’s house. And even though the thought of Eric Gambit and his perfectly shaped features made me feel tingly all over, I couldn’t bring myself to touch my lady bits in his own pool house.
    Although I came close.
    One morning I woke up, and I was humping my pillow, rubbing it along my clit over my pajama pants. I was dreaming of Eric Gambit. I had dreamt he came home, stumbled drunk into the pool house, and took me right then and there, scotch still on his breath.
    Just thinking about Eric Gambit made me hot. So hot in fact, that I thought it might be refreshing to dip my feet in the pool. Okay, maybe it was just an excuse to sit poolside.
    For whatever reason, I still hadn’t bought a bathing suit. I didn’t want Eric Gambit to finally come home and catch me swimming half-naked, watching the sway of my bikini-clad breasts as I pulled myself from the pool to gather my towel.
    I’d rather he stop by and see me perusing literature in the reading room, or hell, even proof-reading some paperwork from the office. I desperately wanted to make a good impression. I’m more than just a pretty face and a pair of tits, Eric.
    And my inner-Lillian would nod approvingly.
    Oh God, my ‘inner-Lillian’?
    I had clearly spent too much time alone.
    Screw it, it was getting dark. Time for bed.
    I went into the living room, and placed my hand on a wooden panel to steady myself while I put on my slippers. The panel unlatched and slid across the wall, spilling me onto the floor, and revealing an entire row of expensive bottles of alcohol.
    As I steadied myself, I studied the various labels glossed over the glass bottles of gold, white, and copper liquids. Whiskeys, ports, madeiras, cognacs, rums, gins, tequilas, brandies.  Running my fingers along the clinking bottles, I landed on a clear brown liquid labeled Mezcal. The rest of the writing on the label was Spanish, and at the bottom of the bottle sat a thin white worm, drowned in booze.
    “The tequila with the worm in it?” I’d only heard of it before, and never tried it.
    Looking at the dust on the panel and bottles, I wagered that Eric Gambit had not opened this wall panel in months and months. Never the less, some bottles had been opened and drank from, as evidence from their varying degrees of fullness or emptiness. This was a collection – but meant for drinking. Why else would he place it in the ‘party’ house?
    The body of Mezcal itself was already opened.
    Maybe I could take a shot before bed?
    Just to see what it’s like.
     

Chapter 6
     
    Eric Gambit had told me to make useof whatever I wanted or needed. What if I needed a little help easing myself to sleep? Surely he’d appreciate my adventurous nature.
    Besides, it wasn’t a big deal. He wouldn’t even notice, truth be told, if one tiny sliver of liquid disappeared from his collection, right? I had the bottle in my hand, and was slowly moving towards the counter in the kitchen as I deliberated.
    “To drink, or not to drink,” I said aloud. “That is the… question.”
    I opened the cupboard, and pulled out a shot glass. Alright, where’s the lime?
    I seized the cupboard drawer and pulled out a cutting knife, placing it upon the cutting board on the counter. In