Thirst (The Calvettis of New York 1) - Page 62
I descend the stairs two at a time, so I can reach the door before Dexie does.
I didn’t waste a second after she motioned that she wants to join me. I brushed my teeth, slid a pair of gray sweatpants over my boxers and took off out of my apartment.
I swing open the door that leads to the sidewalk and find her two feet away.
Those red heels she seems to love are on her feet, and a thin pink T-shirt dress barely covers her body.
“Rocco,” she says my name with softness in her tone. “I was going to buzz so you’d let me in. You didn’t have to come down.”
My building doesn’t have a doorman. There’s not a lobby in sight. A simple square intercom panel hangs on the exterior wall next to a glass door with a silver handle. Inside is a space large enough for two or three people to stand. The residents’ mailboxes hang on a wall opposite the door.
There’s one way to go when you enter the building and that’s up. Carpet-covered stairs lead to the first floor and a landing that ties into the stairs that lead to the second.
I’m on the sixth.
“I want to walk up with you.” I reach my hand out to her.
She moves closer, jingling her keys in her fingers. “I remembered this time.”
I laugh as she brushes past me to enter my building. My cock has been hard since I saw her at her window.
She glances down at the front of my sweatpants. When she looks up, her cheeks have blushed a soft pink.
Dexie is the most seductive woman I’ve ever met. The way she dresses and her belief in herself speaks of a quiet confidence that’s rare. I’ve never seen it in any of the women I’ve dated or fucked.
“You first.” I motion to the stairs.
She brushes her fingertips over the hem of her very short dress. “Why don’t you go first? I wouldn’t want you sneaking a peek up my dress.”
I let out a hearty laugh. “I thought you invited yourself over so I would look up your dress.”
She cracks a wide grin. “You go first and we’ll talk about what’s up my dress after you make me a cup of coffee.”
“Two splashes of cream and one sugar.” I drop my hands to my hips.
She nods as her gaze slides over my bare chest. “Extra, extra hot.”
***
The coffee mugs are empty, her red shoes are on the floor and her inhibitions are slowing slipping away.
We spent the last hour talking about her business and what she sees for the future of it.
Unless Dexie increases the price she’s charging for her handbags, her business will never grow.
You can’t make a product with as much precision and care as she insists on and make a fair profit on a bargain sales price.
Discussing the glaring inconsistencies in her business model will have to wait for tomorrow. Tonight I want to fuck her, not teach her the finer points of profit margins.
“What did you think the first time you saw me over there?” Her hand drifts in the air toward my window.
We’re seated on the couch side-by-side. She stole one glance at her darkened apartment when she arrived. She hasn’t looked in that direction since. Her focus has been solely on me.
I’m the luckiest man in the entire fucking world tonight.
“I saw you before you saw me,” I confess. “I first saw you when Harold took you on a tour of the apartment.”
Confusion knits her brow. “That was a Sunday night. It was raining.”
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