Anyone But the Billionaire (Anyone But You #1)

by Sara L. Hudson

Brown eyes. Which no one ever writes odes about, except for good old Van Morrison. But they should. Because these chocolate brown eyes, lit up by golden flecks, deserve a fucking sonnet. No, a symphony, written in their honor. I’m lost in them, hearing the pretend orchestra in my head playing a score to this moment in time that I’m pretty sure will change my life.

I want to slap him when he winks. Not because I feel it’s chauvinist or insincere, but because it makes me want to jump him and ride him like I’m at the Texas Rodeo.

She’s fucking adorable.

They say you should rise above, take the higher road, not get pleasure from your enemy’s failings. To hell with that.

I’d very much like to unwrap her while she tells me what a good boy I’ve been.

Chase laughs. “Yes, my former shoe salesman, Alice.” “Saleswoman, brother. Let’s not be sexist, now.”

I’m not sure if my lack of ideas stems from my brain freezing on me or from my subconscious wanting to find out if Chase gives as good a car ride as he does elevator rides. My subconscious is a slut.

“Jesus, Bell.” His palm glides over my ass. “You’re either going to save me or be the death of me.”

How can I not think of anything I have to do, but a minute ago I was coming up with a plan for global dominance?

And then she kisses me.