Girls like Maizy were worth waiting for.
Chapter 11
Maizy
Holy cow, was Anson a good kisser.
That, coupled with the delicious white wine, and the heady gallery atmosphere, left me swaying on my feet. I knew if I didn’t get a wall or something to lean up against soon, I’d be down on my ass.
“Hey, can we sit somewhere? I’m really warm,” I said.
“'Course, beautiful.” He led me by the hand toward a non-descript door. “Wow. I’ve never made someone pass out before. Maybe I shouldn’t let you sit down. Fainting women are sort of a bucket list kind of thing for me.”
Good sense of humor? Check.
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We passed through the door into an office that looked like an extension of the cozy seating areas in the main gallery. There were fluffy white sofas and love seats and even an easy chair with a huge ottoman. An iMac sat on a rustic-looking desk with a couple neat piles of paper, and just above it was a huge window that looked out into the gallery. I peered through it to the party on the other side, which was quickly filling up.
“That window, my dear, is a one-way mirror,” Anson told me.
“What do you mean? It doesn’t look like a mirror to me.”
“It’s a mirror on the other side. That means we can see out but no one can see in,” he explained.
Oh, my.
I plopped my butt on the edge of the desk as my dizziness faded, and Anson moved right in for the kill, pressing me against the hard wood. I was pretty sure I felt his growing erection against my leg, even though he seemed to be sort of trying to hide it.
His lips were back on mine, and he smelled like expensive, spicy soap. I laced my fingers through his thick, red hair and parted my lips for some sexy exploration.
It was funny, but a newfound excitement had my heart racing in both a rush of emotions and reservations about kissing my boss’s brother-in-law, not to mention having gone on a date with Von just the night before. But I pushed that out of my mind.
There’d be plenty of time to fret over that later.
Anson pulled back, his gaze piercing mine with some kind of crazy, stony power that sent a warm throbbing to the center of my core. I glanced out the window that I was sitting just inches from and saw the party in full swing.
“It’s kind of hot, isn’t it?” he asked.
“What? What is hot?”
He nodded toward the glass just behind me. “You know. You know what I mean. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
Ugh. Busted. I totally knew what he meant. He was right. And he looked at me so intensely, he might as well have been seeing right through me.
“Here, baby,” he said, taking my hand and guiding me off the desk and back onto my feet. “Face the window. With your hands on it.”
I did as he said.
“Now, get closer.”
I scooted up to the glass until I could see my breath on it, and he stood behind me, whispering in my ear.
“See all those people? Just milling about, looking at art, maybe thinking about buying something. Do you think they’re wondering what’s going on on the other side of the mirror facing them?”
“I…I don’t know,” I muttered.
“I think they are. And they have no idea we’re standing right here. They have no idea how turned on you are. And they have no idea that I’m about to unzip the back of your dress.”