Perfect Chaos
“You can try.” She thrusts her chest out, prompting my eyes to drop to her boobs.
I scowl when I register the unfastening of an extra button. “You on the pull tonight?” I ask, dragging my eyes back up.
“There’s no man in here who could handle me.” She gives me an ironic smirk, and I laugh. She’s right. But I don’t like the thought of her single forever. There’s gotta be a man out there for my Gina. Someone who can handle her fire. Maybe it’s time for me to step in and fix her up with someone. She’s . . . what? Early thirties? I’ve never known her to have a second date. “Are you on the pull?” she asks.
“Yes,” I answer adamantly. “I plan on beating my personal record this coming weekend.” I’m not kidding either. That failed sex session with Pamela a few weeks back scarred me, and I don’t plan on letting it happen again. Jesus, I’ve never gone so long without sex. Once tomorrow is out of the way and the weekend hits, I’m gonna fix this drought. Flood the fucker.
“Good.” She points over my shoulder. “You can start there. She’s been giving you the eye since we arrived.”
I glance over my shoulder and find a hot blonde looking in our direction. My head starts nodding agreeably. “Good spot.” I swipe my beer up and dip to kiss Gina on the cheek. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters. “Would now be a good time to ask for a raise?”
She’s a case. Gina must be the best paid PA in London. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.” I head over to the hot blonde, smiling my dazzling smile. I’m about to make her year, and she’s about to make my day. “Evening,” I say, helping myself to the stool next to her. “Drink?”
She laughs. “I was bracing myself for a mind-blowing chat-up line.”
“I don’t do chat-up lines,” I inform her smoothly. “But if it’s mind-blowing you’re looking for, then I’m your man.”
Her eyebrows jump up. “Is that so?”
“That’s so,” I confirm, holding my hand out. “Ty Christianson.”
She looks down, stalling a little. “There’s no need for introductions.”
I withdraw, pouting. “You want to play it like that, then?” I like this woman.
She holds her own hand out. “No, I meant I already know your name.”
Oh shit, have I fucked her before? She isn’t familiar. “Have we met?” I ask tentatively, maybe bracing myself for a slap.
“No, we haven’t.”
“Then how—”
“I work for Bexley Law on the seventh floor. Christianson Walker is on the thirteenth, right?”
Phew. “Right. So you know my name, but I don’t know yours.” I take her hand and shake it slowly. “That puts me at a disadvantage.”
She smiles. “Catherine. It’s a pleasure.”
“I hope it is,” I whisper, making sure I hold her eyes so she can see the endless promises in them. But just in case she can’t, I decide to tell her exactly how I intend to spend the rest of my evening. I’m feeling like me again, back in the game, full steam ahead. My weekend starts right now. “Have you ever been—?” My planned words shrivel to nothing when something catches my eye past the woman sitting before me, her breath stolen as she waits in anticipation for me to finish. Problem is, I can’t finish, because my own breath has just been robbed, and my mind has gone blank. I stare at the bar’s entrance as Lainey wanders in, glancing around as she shakes her umbrella. Oh fuck. How can a woman look so perfect after being rained on? She’s changed out of her work clothes. That means she was naked somewhere in the office. My cock lunges at the thought. She’s wearing jeans, all casual, with a cute leather jacket over a plain white tee. My mind rips her casual attire from her body and puts it all over my bedroom floor.
She catches my eye, giving me a small, almost awkward smile. God damn it, is she still wounded?
“Have I ever . . .” Catherine prompts.
“Uh-huh,” I say, following Lainey’s path. She flicks a discreet, tight look at the woman opposite me, before noticing me clocking it and quickly realigning her attention forward.
“Hi,” she says as she passes.
“Hi,” I reply, feeling my nostrils flare when all the males who work for me start elbowing each other, conversations coming to an abrupt halt, every one of their beady eyes focused on the goddess approaching. I want to dig their eyeballs out with a fucking straw.
“Should I take my knickers off now?” Catherine asks.
“Yeah, that would be lovely.”
“And would you like me to sit on your face, here on the bar?”
“Sounds good.”
“I want your babies, Tyler.”
“I want that, too.”
“And I think we should get married as soon as possible.”
“Wonderful.” I crane my neck as far as I can to keep Lainey in my sights, as she rounds the table, saying hi to everyone. It’s all rather casual, kissing on cheeks, affectionate shoulder rubs, her bright smile blinding everyone she looks at. Damn it, look at me. And like she’s heard my thoughts, her eyes lift, meeting mine. I jump and swing back around on my stool, remembering the woman before me and the fact I was in the middle of wooing her to death. Yet when I face Catherine again, I find there is, in fact, no Catherine. She’s been replaced by some biker dude with a beer belly and a huge beard. I recoil at his sheer size and scan the vicinity. Where’d she go?