Erased by Elle Christensen, K Webster Read Free Book Online Page B

lessons from the very best. Oh, and Jossanna Parker was my mother.” I didn’t want to name drop, but I couldn’t help it.
    The unimpressed smirk on Mrs. Stone’s face was replaced by a glowing grin—a grin that actually made her look pretty.
    “Well, then, by all means, please begin. I anticipate this performance immensely,” she speaks politely. Then she adds with more feeling, “And your mother will forever be missed. She was a favorite student of mine.”
    And then I nail it, earning myself a spot in Julliard and going on to be Mrs. Stone’s new favorite student.
    As the memory ends, so does the song and I yank my fingers away as if I’ve been burned. Tears sting my eyes as my finger throbs and I choke back a sob. God, I wish I could have known her. She was an angel in everyone’s eyes.
    My realization that the blanket has fallen to pool around my waist, leaving me naked from the belly up, comes when I hear soft clapping nearby. The smell of coffee mixed with soapy man invades my senses, and my stomach actually growls.
    “Maybe you should take a break, naked Beethoven, and have some breakfast,” Slade suggests lightheartedly as he sits back in a wooden chair.
    His eyes are glued to my chest, and I swear he could burn a hole right through me with his gaze. How long has he been here watching me? Quickly, I yank the blanket up to end his show.
    “I thought I was alone. And that’s Frédéric Chopin,” I snap with a snooty tone.
    My eyes hastily skim down his half-naked body when he stands. His chest is all hard lines and shadows in the dimly lit bar. I’m not sure there’s a soft spot on his body. Each one of my fingers begs to play a song of their own on that piece of art.
    As he walks toward me, a steamy cup of coffee in hand, my eyes fall to his pajama pants, which are slung dangerously low on his hips. The dark spattering of hair just above the hem of his pants has me wanting to drop my blanket and jump him.
    He’s so delicious-looking.
    His hand extends to offer me the mug, and when I reach for it, my shaky fingers once again lose grip of the blanket. I watch his eyes follow the blanket and then run back up my body to my naked breasts. Under his lust-filled gaze, I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t. Instead, I take the coffee and pull the blanket back up as if I’m not bothered by the fact that he saw me naked. Again. An ache deep inside my pelvis begins a seductive throb. My body seems to lose all sense of reality when he’s around.
    “Thank you,” I whisper and slowly sip the hot liquid.
    For someone who doesn’t know me at all, he made my coffee perfectly—with a little creamer and a sugar. I wonder if Dad told him how I like it.
    He waves me off with a growl, as if it’s no big deal, and swiftly turns his back to me. I didn’t miss the way his pants were tented due to a thick erection though. Yes, very thick. Ignoring the burn that tears across my body, I watch him walk over to the wall on the other side of the bar and straighten a picture that didn’t need straightening.
    The thick muscles in his back go taut as he raises one of his sculpted arms. I can see just a hint of his ass crack above his pajama pants and want nothing more than to shed him of those evil pants. My eyes skitter over a couple of tattoos that are difficult to see from this vantage point, and I narrow them when I see a jagged scar on the lower left side of his back.
    I wonder how he got that.
    “You should wear more clothes,” he grumbles, his back still turned.
    A wicked grin chases away my earlier melancholy features. Jill likes being naked. Especially around Slade.
    “You should wear less,” I retort with a giggle.
    Today, his demeanor is softer and playful. I can’t help feeling the need to draw more of that out of him. He seems to have composed himself and straightened that dreadfully almost-crooked picture before he faces me. His hard features are gone as he rewards me with one hell of a sexy-ass