“Mmm. Why so smug?”
“I just made you come right over your panties,” he says, leaning in to plant a delicious little kiss on my forehead. I think I smell a trace of my own arousal, which makes my cheeks blush pink. Not sure why, of all the things we’ve done today, that one little thing makes me blush, but there ya go.
“You did,” I say, nodding soberly.
“Imagine what I could do if we lost them.”
Oh. Oh, yes, there are very many things we could do.
I slide my hands back to his delightful erection. “You still…”
He pins my wrists in place with enough force to sober me right up.
“I said no.”
“Not now?”
“Not now, baby,” he says. “I decide when and where that happens. Got it?”
I nod. “Got it.”
“What was that business we still have to tend to?” he asks.
I sigh. I have notes in my phone and notebook.
“There’s a little girl who needs to find her mother.”
He pulls out a chair beside him.
“Have a seat, and let’s get this done.”
Like he always makes women come and then just gets right back down to business.
See? My logical brain rears her ugly head. For him, this is totally an average day at the office.
Now that’s an office job I might like.
God, it’s hard to focus though, especially with my pulse still racing.
Still, I try. I take down all the notes I can. He knows very little, but thanks to his own internal resources, he has access to far more than I do.
“This is good,” I say, trying to be all professional and not act like I just came on his desk and moaned his name. “I need to debrief with the girls and pull a few things together.” Debrief. God. That never sounded so dirty before.
I stand, trying to gather up a modicum of dignity that’s about to flitter away like little bits of fairy dust. “So is this where we… shake hands? Give each other a little peck on the cheek?”
He leans over, wraps his perfect fingers around the back of my neck, and pulls me to his mouth for a kiss that makes my toes curl.
“That’ll do,” he says. He pulls away, and I don’t miss the momentary lack of tension in his features. I tell myself perhaps this is a mask he wears, not to trust him. “Until tonight?”
I nod, because I don’t want this to end. Maybe he’s got redeeming qualities after all, and the jerk face persona is only for the cameras.
Maybe?
“So I may have asked Madison to keep an eye on Toni and Prince tonight. Not just because I want to spend time alone with you,” (which I so totally want to do), “but because I have some questions to ask you that would probably be best to not ask in front of her. Okay?”
“Dinner alone with you?” he asks, with that crooked smile that makes me melt, every time. “I can handle that.”
I wiggle my finger at him. “Ta ta.”
Ta ta? Wtf?
He chuckles. “Ta ta, baby.”
Worth it.
When I get back to the shop, Toni’s walking around the perimeter with a little feather duster. We have professional cleaners, and there’s hardly a speck of dust in the place, but it looks like Madison’s put her to work.
“Good job,” Madison says, nodding in Toni’s direction. “But make sure you get the light fixtures, and don’t—” She pauses when the door jingles as I walk in, giving me a quick once-over. Damn it. I totally forgot Madison is capable of using x-ray vision to determine who got frisky and when and how without even asking a question. It’s one of her P.I. skills.
“You sly little dog,” she says, shaking her head.
Toni waves and continues to dust, as Allie takes customers at the smoothie bar in between yoga sessions.
“Oh hush.”
“You’re blushing. Whatever he did is making you blush,” she hisses. She looks around the shop like she’s about to plan a heist, then grabs me by the arm and drags me to the back room. Allie watches us curiously, narrowing her gaze as if she knows something’s up.
The door clangs shut, and Madison pins me up against the wall.
Sadly, it isn’t anywhere near as hot as when Miguel did it.
“Bitch, let me go,” I mutter, shoving her off me and flouncing past her to perch on a stool by the little card table where I did the initial intake with Miguel and Toni. “What’s up?”
She swivels around to look at me. “You know exactly what’s up,” she says. “He did something dirty to you.”
“Seriously, how do you know that?” I give her a look that tells her I may or may not have come on top of his million-dollar desk. I like to leave her guessing a little.
“Oh, that’s right, I forgot you’re Miss ‘I Don’t Kiss and Tell.’”
“Madison,” I say calmly, with practiced patience. “Sweetie. I’m not Miss ‘I Don’t Kiss and Tell.’ I’m Miss ‘I Have No One to Kiss so I Have Nothing to Tell.’”