Was that true? “No, she’s beautiful, but I—”
“It’s okay. There’s no need to be nervous.” A sweet, surprised smile curled on the redhead’s lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were shy.”
I pulled my chin back. “I’m not.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “But if you were, that’s absolutely fine. If you’re worried about her not wanting to—”
“I’m not shy.” No one had ever accused me of that.
“All right.” The redhead blinked her evaluating stare. “Then, touch her.”
Years of competition, and I’d never turned down a challenge. This woman had played it perfectly and gotten me to walk right into her trap.
I drew in a deep breath. “Where?”
She shrugged. “Wherever you’d like.”
If I turned the offer down, it would look incredibly suspicious. What guy in his right mind would pass it up? Confusion coiled in my brain as my desire to be smart and walk away fought against the instinct to never back down.
One touch. I could do this and prove I wasn’t bluffing, and then decline to negotiate.
I pulled my shoulders back and puffed up my chest as I strode to the side of the table. The redhead’s blue eyes sharpened as she watched me lift a hand and gently set it on the blonde’s ankle.
It wasn’t warm in the room, but I began to sweat anyway. The second I made contact, the girl gulped a breath, and the sexy, startled sound shot straight to my dick. The redhead’s relentless stare egged me on. She’d told me I could touch the girl anywhere, and she silently challenged me to do more.
I smoothed my palm along the length of the girl’s calf, sliding up to her knee. Her skin was silk, and I faltered when her leg shifted ever so slightly, moving to encourage. The logic in me knew it was an act, like how a stripper plays up she’s interested in whatever guy she’s dancing for. I knew the only thing this girl was into was the money in my bank account, and yet . . . I wanted to believe she liked the way my hand felt on her skin.
The desire for her was strong enough, it convinced me she wanted more.
I inched my hand along, dragging it up her perfectly toned thigh, while the redhead looked pleased. My breathing picked up, matching the girl’s on the table. Her breasts rose and fell with each deep breath she took.
Tension pulled taut between us until it was razor sharp. My palm rested on the top of her warm thigh, my fingertips only an inch from her pussy. The sales assistant arched an eyebrow, one that said, “Go on, then.”
I already knew what the girl tasted like. I wanted to know how she’d feel. Would she shift away from my touch? Would she spread wider and welcome it? I’d always been curious to a fault, and this time was no different. I trailed my fingers down, skimming them between her thighs.
She let out a breathy sigh and her back arched, shoving her breasts toward the ceiling. Her reaction was like I’d shocked her, but with a jolt of pleasure. It’s an act, I repeated endlessly, but no matter how many times I said it, I couldn’t convince myself of the truth.
She was hot and damp. One tiny circle of my fingertips on her clit, and she reached her hands back further, gripping the ribbon restraining her. It was as if she needed something to hold onto.
I did it again.
“Fifteen hundred,” the redhead whispered.
I froze, and my attention flew back to the sales assistant. Since the moment I’d come into this room, she’d been controlled and confident, but a strange expression was fixed on her face now. Unease?
“You should be aware,” she continued, “I’ve never made an offer that low. And I doubt she’s ever accepted one, either. She’s worth a hell of a lot more.” There it was again, the admiration in her tone. She frowned for a split second before her expression firmed up. “What I’m saying is, this is a limited time deal. I recommend you take it before I change my mind.”
Was this a sales tactic, or was she genuine? Her posture was straight and uncomfortable, and I got the sense she was off-balance and overcompensating.
Fifteen hundred, she’d said.
I had more than that set aside for plane tickets to visit my family in Johannesburg. It was a trip I’d been putting off for almost two years. Once Morgan had moved in with me, I’d thought I’d take her and introduce her to my parents, but—no. In hindsight, it was good we hadn’t gone. I saw now how Morgan embodied the vain, rude American culture my South African family despised.
At the rate I was going, it could easily be another two years before I got serious about the trip, and in the meantime, that money was just sitting there . . .
Was I insane? Why the fuck was I even considering this?
I yanked my hand off the girl. I wasn’t a real customer, so I had no right to touch her. I should turn and walk away, and yet, I couldn’t get my feet to move.