Free Bad Girls Do: a Billionare Romance Novel (The Everly Brothers Series, Erotic Romance Book 3) by Rosalie Lario Page B

fiery, impressionistic pieces she couldn’t help but admire. They practically oozed passion and danger. Like the man himself. His desk was far too neat. Clearly he hadn’t been lying when he said he rarely came in.
    “It’s a nice office. Shame it doesn’t get more use,” she teased.
    He grinned at her words. “You should see my art studio. It’s a fucking mess.”
    Laughing, she picked up a framed photo from his desk. It was of him standing at an easel with several kids. They all held paintbrushes to a canvas that had already been dotted with splotches of color. The top of the easel had a plaque emblazoned with the words “Art for Underprivileged Youths”.
    Surprised, she asked, “You’ve volunteered here?”
    He nodded. “Every few months. It’s fun to paint with the kids. They have no filter on their creativity.”
    Somehow, she hadn’t envisioned him as the charitable type. She’d figured him far more likely to spend all his free time carousing at bars. Apparently, there was more to Sam Everly than the carefree playboy image he presented to their social crowd.
    “It’s a great charity. We’ve worked with them before.”
    Sam’s brow rose. “We?”
    Diane set the photo back in its place. “I run a local charity supporting unwed teenage mothers.”
    Sam looked surprised. “Really? I had no idea.”
    She nodded, absently sliding her fingertips along the cold, hard wood of the desk. “I talked my father into funding it right before I moved here to open it up.”
    “Wow. For some reason, I thought you didn’t work.”
    She made a face at him. “I’m not a carbon copy, bored Manhattan socialite, you know.”
    “Apparently not.”
    Without warning, he edged closer. Startled, she froze in her spot and watched him approach.
    He stopped right in front of her, practically sucking up all the air in the room with the sheer masculinity of his presence. When his palm cupped her cheek, her heart hammered against her rib cage. “So, what motivated you to start such an altruistic pursuit?”
    The heat of his hand seeped into her skin, making her breath harsh and raspy. She gave an unconscious lick of her lips. “I had a friend back in high school who got pregnant. Her parents were very concerned about their image and social status. Not so much about her. They disowned her, leaving her homeless and destitute.”
    “Wow,” he rumbled. “That’s horrible.”
    “Luckily, my mother allowed her to move in with us until she landed on her feet, but I guess it stuck with me, you know?”
    “I can imagine. Those younger years can be very impressionable.”
    Sam’s words made it sound like he was remembering his own past. Suddenly, she recalled that her father had told her in passing of his mother’s death when he was younger. Of a drug overdose. She could only imagine what sort of an impression that had left on Sam.
    His sudden grin broke the heaviness that had settled over the room. “You know, I’ve never actually fooled around in here.”
    The insinuation behind his words made her pulse race. “I find that hard to believe.”
    “It’s true.” His blue eyes glimmered with intensity as he stepped closer.
    Her derriere made contact with the desk. Caught up in watching Sam, in anticipating what he would do, she absently sat on top of it.
    Sam wasted no time in settling his knee between her legs, nudging them open so he could wedge his hips in-between them. The movement slid her skirt higher up her thighs, but he didn’t take advantage of it. Not yet. Instead, he stood there, staring down at her with thinly veiled hunger in his eyes.
    “I always thought it would be fun to christen this room.”
    When his finger reached out to trace the line of her cleavage, a shiver of desire racked her body. “I…do you think that’s a good idea? Someone could walk in at any moment.”
    Sam made a low, amused sound in his throat. “That’s part of the thrill, isn’t it?”
    He was right. The thought of letting Sam