Filthy Rich Vampire Husbands (Filthy Rich 2)

“If that’s how you want to play it.” She impersonated my loud orgasm noise. “That noise came from your room last night; you might want to check out what it was.”

Haley turned to us from her position on the couch, tossing her magazine down. “There’s nothing wrong with masturbating. We all do it. Christ I’d have seized up by now if I didn’t.”

“Haley!” We said in tandem. It’s so unusual for Haley to say anything so bluntly.

“Well it’s true. My B.O.B. is my other best friend apart from you two.”

We all laughed.

Haley changed the subject, obviously done with any carnal conversation. “What’s everyone up to today? Anything exciting?”

“I’m showing a client around a condo at Brighton Beach.” I told them.

“Oh my God, I love it out there,” Haley said, her hands clasped together. “Swap me so I can go visit.”

“Not a chance with the commission I’ll earn if I get him to purchase.”

“It’s a purchase, not a rental?” she asked.

“Sure is. A steal at $3.5m.”

“Oh my God.” Haley said in a surprised tone. “Do you think between us we could buy a brick each?”

“So my schedule is to meet the client at eleven, and I have nothing else going on because I centered my whole day around trying to get Mr. Carter of Carter Property Enterprises, to part with his cash.” I swallowed the rest of my coffee and snatched Kayla’s pop tart out of her hand. I took a bite and walked toward the shower. “Catch you guys later.”

“Thanks for waiting to listen about my day,” Kayla yelled out. “And for eating my breakfast.”

I waited for Mr. Carter to show up in the lobby of the Brighton Condominium and Club. The lobby looked like any other luxury hotel: with reception, and a concierge, on first entering, and with a waiting area, plus bar and restaurant set further back. The building had twenty-four hour security, a gym, pools, and private beach access. I didn’t want coffee breath when I met my client, so I sucked on a mint while I watched the doorway.

Two men entered the building at once. One was middle-aged, balding, and short. The other looked like a movie-star. I bet I knew which one was my client. Sure enough, the older one walked toward me. “Could you tell me, are you Miss Harris?”

“I am.” I shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter.”

“Oh, no, sorry, you’re mistaken.” The gentleman said. “I’m Mr. Carter’s driver. He’s waiting for you in the bar.” I turned around, following the man’s pointed finger and my gaze was met by steely grey eyes from the movie-star man. “If you would like to go through to meet him, I’ll go wait in the car.”

I was intrigued. He couldn’t introduce himself? I supposed he didn’t know for sure it was me. Not everyone looked up my photo like the pervert. I stood up and brushed down my peach, knee-length skirt. My heels clacked on the marble floor as I made my way over to the bar.

“Mr. Carter?” I held out my hand.

“Miss Harris.” He took my hand in his, holding it a fraction too long. I noted his hands were huge, his fingers had thick digits. His skin was as smooth as the marble floor under my feet. I took in his appearance: blond hair that was slicked back and came to midway down his neck and his chin was covered by a touch of pale stubble. He was a man who worked out, had a medium-build, and I would put him at six foot two. He was dressed in a sharp business suit, but lacked a tie and his white shirt had the two top buttons undone.

“I thought we would talk first before you showed me the condo. I like to know who I’m doing business with.” He stated.

“That’s fine.” I nodded, removing my peach jacket, as it was becoming too warm for me in the bar. I watched his eyes follow my jacket, pausing for a fraction as my pale-blue blouse gaped at the front. Sometimes my large bust was entirely frustrating. I tried to keep my jacket on wherever possible and cover the girls up, but today was too warm and I gave up. I’d just have to put up with my chest being spoken to. It wouldn’t be the first time. However Mr. Carter’s gaze quickly returned to my face, and that’s where it stayed throughout the rest of our conversation, which made a refreshing change.

He ordered us two mineral waters. I didn’t mind. I found a lot of these successful businessmen liked to do that. Displaying their egos as they took charge.

I explained about my background with Green’s.

“So you have a lot of experience with rich businessmen then?” He asked, appraising me coolly.

“I’m one of Green’s main realtors in high end real estate.”

“Could I ask you something personal?” His finger skimmed around the top of his glass which emitted a whistling sound.

“Sure, though whether I’ll answer or not depends on the question.”

“Do you have rich businessmen bothering you all the time, thinking they can buy you as well as the property?”