The Boss (The Boss 1)
Instantly, that playfulness returned, and he swatted my behind as he moved past me to the dresser. He rummaged through a drawer then tossed me a soft gray t-shirt. “That’s as covered up as I’ll allow you to be in my presence, young lady.”
I snorted and pulled the shirt over my head. It hung to just below my ass cheeks, and had a faded white outline of Led Zeppelin’s Icarus logo on the front. I twirled in it as though it was an evening gown, and he admired me for a few seconds before heading toward the stairs. “I’ll give you a moment, come down when you’re ready.”
* * * *
We ordered heinously overpriced room service burgers, which Neil absolutely refused to take any money for. “I understand that we’re not dating, but I think we can go so far as to call ourselves friends at this point. There’s nothing wrong with a friend buying another friend’s meal.”
“As long as I get to return the favor some time,” I warned. I didn’t like the idea of being beholden to anyone, especially not a man with money and power. And I didn’t want him to think that’s where my interest lay. “Just remember, I’m in this for hot sex, not hot meals.”
We opened the shade over the huge window and sat on the long couch, the room service tray between us. While we ate, we chatted and watched the lights of the skyscrapers and streets outside. It was a full moon, and the night was almost as bright as the day, albeit in a weird, fluorescent way. From inside the soft, warm light of the room, I felt like I was looking out on an alien world.
“Can I ask you something?” I folded my legs criss-cross and tugged the hem of the t-shirt down when I noticed his gaze drop to my crotch. I cleared my throat, and he looked up with a crooked smile.
“You can ask me anything. I just might not answer.” He dipped two fries in ketchup and bit them, chewing thoughtfully. “Depending on what your question is.”
“Are you living here?” I plucked at the front of the t-shirt I wore and jerked my thumb toward the loft overhead.
He took a sip from a bottle of water before answering. “Just for now. After the divorce was finalized, Elizabeth had sixty days to move out of our apartment. I spent most of those in London, but I had to return before they were up. In ten days, she’ll take possession of the house in L.A., and my life can go back to normal.”
I thought it was pretty sad that “normal” for him was being alone, even though he had been married for two years. Still, I didn’t know all the particulars. I didn’t feel it was my place to judge.
“Do you want to know what happened?” he asked, gesturing with a fry. “It isn’t tragic, I wouldn’t be offended if you asked.”
“I wasn’t fishing, if that’s what you think,” I clarified firmly. “But sure, if it isn’t tragic, what happened?”
He shrugged. “We didn’t communicate our expectations well before we got married. She interpreted my not wanting any more children to mean that I didn’t want another child right now. And it took two years for the both of us to figure out that things weren’t going to change for the better.”
“Yikes.” There wasn’t much else I was qualified to say.
“I certainly don’t recommend it. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, forging ahead as though nothing is amiss is definitely the wrong tactic.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I snorted. I felt weirdly possessive, though I had no right to be. I didn’t want to talk about his ex-wife. I didn’t like the idea of him being with anyone. And I certainly didn’t like the fact that I felt any of those things. I wiped my lips with my napkin and pointed out the window, continuing the game we’d started while waiting for the food to arrive. I drew an invisible circle around the window of a neighboring building. “What about the people in that one?”
Neil embraced the change of subject gladly. “They’re enormous perverts.”
“Really?” I giggled, tipping my head to one side.
“It’s disturbing, the stuff they get up to.”
“What if I wanted to get up to something disturbing?” A little thrill went through me. I didn’t really know how to do anything truly disturbing, but I was pretty sure he would.
A slow smile spread across his lips. “Forgive me, if you’ve extensively broadened your repertoire in the past six years, but when we slept together before you seemed to be under the impression that a bit of light spanking was disturbing.”
“I was only eighteen,” I reminded him, and I took a little selfish pleasure in the momentary flash of shame that crossed his face. “But no, I haven’t been going crazy with the whips and chains.”