“Follow me. I’ll show you where the magic happens.”
Lizzie
"Falling behind already?"
Obviously not the best time for jokes. Not when I'm supposed to be in negotiation mode. But, goddamn, I can't help it. Even with Darcy moving at his own irritating pace.
"You're hard to keep up with."
Darcy’s game for some kind of humor, at least.
He's still taking his sweet time to catch up, though. Dragging it out, like he thinks he can affect me the way he seems to light a fire under Charlie, and Lydia, and Jane, and hell, even Catherine.
This is a nerve-racking day for all of them, but they all sure seem comfortable with sneaking peeks at Darcy's private-gym-honed billionaire ass. And that’s saying a lot about this guy. It’s no small feat for any guy to get that kind of attention from these ladies.
But I prefer to focus on the business at hand. Now that it's just the two of us, I won't make things easy at all. I can't. I start walking faster.
People go nuts for shit like good looks, money and business success, but none of it impresses me much. Usually. Besides, I've got all of that myself. It's not that hard.
But, damn. Darcy is self-made. Most people aren’t willing to put in so much effort into something, so I can certainly appreciate the hard work he’s put in to get where here is now. He’s successful man, on top of his game and he sure as fuck looks the part.
I’ve seen a lot of good looking men, they come in varying degrees of hotness. But Darcy is the type of hot where you could literally start running a dangerous temperature and pass out just from glancing at him, pussy burning up and setting fire to your panties. It's kind of ridiculous. And awesome.
Oh, and it doesn’t hurt that he's also somehow a billionaire. Okay, that’s a lot of money, and I’m impressed, maybe a little jealous.
I know I'm hot myself, but…goddamn, he overpowers people's wits with his classically-chiselled face and suits tailored perfectly to his insane body and…how does he smell so good?
Because he can afford it. Don't let it distract you, Lizzie. Come on.
I can look up some photos of him later, though. My fans get to fantasize, why shouldn't I treat myself to some fun as well?
Suddenly Darcy is walking almost abreast with me, but not quite. Why does that feel so right? I turn around, and Darcy is looking almost straight up as he walks. Out of nowhere, I imagine him skilfully putting that powerful jaw to good use. Just a weird, random thought, I suppose. What the hell is he looking at, anyway?
"I love the classical Renaissance-style coffered ceilings."
"I didn’t know you went to ceiling school."
Darcy laughs. It's hearty, deep and genuine. I also feel a hearty, deep and genuine stirring around my pussy and my nipples, but I ignore all that. For now.
At this point, I'm sure Darcy knows that this tour is really about the list of stipulations. It’s all I'm thinking about, anyway. Also, I'm kind of wandering in front and not even pretending to show him anything at the moment.
We're passing Charlie's space, and I use my left foot to nudge open the door with a slight kick. It's how I always open that door, I have no idea why. I can feel Darcy watching closely. He seems to like it, and I don't think he's pretending.
To the untrained eye, the denim shorts I'm wearing are not the sexiest in the world, but they are revealing to those who can appreciate it. I turn around and make full, deliberate eye contact.
"You know of a better way to open a door?"
Without breaking my stare, I lift my leg up to finish opening the door. Darcy is either charmed speechless or he's pretending to be. I clomp into the room, turn around, and wait for Darcy to follow me. It takes him a few seconds.
"You forget how to walk or something? I opened the door just for you."
I wait for Darcy to finally say something. It cannot be that the billionaire can't keep up with me. He has to have some kind of witty response ready to go.
"My mind was elsewhere. Forgive me." All business, I guess. Fine.
"I'll think about it. Anyway, this is Charlie's room."
"Is Charlie one of the girls? The Bennet Babes?"