Briggs (Carolina Reapers 7)

Angela nodded and walked away, heading for Edwards.

“She’s efficient,” I noted.

“There’s a reason she’s my assistant,” Bristol said with a smile. “Elevator or stairs? My office is only one floor up.”

“Stairs,” I answered as water rhythmically dripped from the sleeves of my suit.

“Good point. This way.” She led me toward the stairwell, her hips swinging subtly with every step. The movement wasn’t the exaggerated kind that some women leaned into when they were trying to catch attention, just the natural swish of a woman with a set of curves to die for. Once we were out of sight of the crew, I gave in and stared at her ass in that little black dress, then followed the sleek lines of her legs all the way down to her red heels. Bristol was a hundred percent business, and I needed to remember that.

My dick twitched. Yeah, I needed to remember that right fucking now.

“Hey, Briggs!” One of the models raced over, barefoot and flushed.

Both Bristol and I paused at the door.

“Emma,” I answered, mentally fist-pumping that I remembered her name. Maybe it made me a dick, but my brain had concentrated primarily on Bristol all day.

The blonde looked up at me with a mixture of apprehension and hope. “I know it’s late notice and everything since it’s Valentine’s Day and all, but a few of us are going out after this, and we wondered if you wanted to come with?” She tugged her lower lip between her teeth.

Emma was gorgeous—she was a model, so that kind of went with the territory—and she’d been nothing but kind and professional all day, but she just wasn’t doing it for me, and it didn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out why. The reason was standing about two feet to my left, holding her breath while she watched me. The fact that I was that highly aware of what Bristol was doing was enough for me to know that fulfilling my need for her with some other woman wasn’t the way to go.

“Thanks, but I have an interview—” I started.

“Oh, you can totally meet up with us after!” There was so much hope in her eyes.

“And I have a late flight tonight, so I can make it to practice in the morning.” I offered her what I hoped was an apologetic smile. A month or two ago, I would have jumped on the opportunity…but then Bristol showed up.

“Right. Of course.” She nodded and then slipped a piece of paper into my hand. “Just in case you change your mind.” With a wink, she turned and walked back to her friends.

“Guess nothing’s changed in that regard,” Bristol muttered, shoving the door to the stairwell open and marching inside, her heels clicking on the steel.

“Meaning?” I asked, goading her as I followed her up to her floor, shamelessly surveying the plump curves of her ass. I’d had my hands on that ass a few weeks ago, it wasn’t like I didn’t know its curve and shape like the back of my own hand, but I still couldn’t look away.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she snapped over her shoulder as we reached the next floor. She cursed when her fingers slipped on her electronic key.

I caught it before it could fall between the steps, then dangled it at her eye level. “I’m afraid I don’t,” I teased in mock innocence.

“Thank you.” She snatched the lanyard out of my hands and muttered a curse about my reflexes as she keyed open the door.

I followed her into her suite of offices. This much floor space was hard to come by in New York, but she’d been smart in her location. If she’d gone for the trendier parts of Manhattan—which I could admit I’d firmly expected her to do—she would have bankrupted her company before the new lines could even make it into production.

“Why not operate out of the existing offices?” I asked as she led me down a hallway lined with heart streamers. Someone was in a festive mood.

“Because they’re in London, and as much as I love London, it’s not New York.” There was a little wistful sigh there when she said New York. “See?” She opened her office door, which had sweeping views of the city through its floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked over her shoulder, grinning at me.

“Stunning.” I didn’t even glance at the skyline.

A moment hung between us, but neither of us acted on it. Good.

“Here.” She led me into the office and pointed toward an adjoining door. “I’ll grab you some clothes.”

The room reminded me a lot of Bristol. It was tastefully decorated and elegant while still maintaining its modern, industrial vibe. Modern art hung from the walls, and there was a bright red couch in the corner that matched two wingback chairs.

“Thanks.” I walked into a brightly lit bathroom and hung my sodden jacket on one of the towel hooks.