Sweet Spot (Irresistible 1)
“Apologies on her behalf.” I resumed my seat behind my desk. “She shouldn’t have been so unprofessional.”
“Mm, well, I’m sure she’s just following your lead.”
“And what is it you’re trying to say with that?”
Lia’s arms remained crossed as she shrugged. “Just that her unprofessionalism is most likely a reflection of yours.”
“Is this about the fact that you saw her at my apartment last night?”
“Yes. And you told her that you had a woman over, which led her to be suspicious of me when I walked in here looking for you.”
“Why do you care what she thinks?”
“Because I do.”
“That’s not a reason.”
Lia glared. “Because.” She clenched her teeth. “I hate that once I get my key from you and leave, I have to do a walk of shame from your office to the elevator despite the fact that nothing went on in here. And don’t pretend that’s not the case, Lukas, it’s crystal clear what your receptionists think is happening in this room as we speak. Clearly, it happens often enough around here.”
My lip curled at her judgment. “I can assure you it doesn’t. Contrary to whatever assumption you’re running with, my need to fuck can generally wait till I have time to step out of the office.”
“At which point you go home and make your neighbors miserable?”
“You’re really hung up on this idea of me, aren’t you?”
“Well, just judging from the conversation I overheard last night, you host exactly the kind of… late-night activity I imagined you might. And we’re all adults so that’s fine. All I ask is for you to be considerate as far as the noise level goes, especially on the nights that you decide to take… multiple girls home.”
“In all fairness, one can easily make as much noise as two. Just depends on the girl and the night.”
“Wow. Thanks for sharing but I had no desire to know that.”
“Why? Because the idea of sex makes you uncomfortable?”
Her eyebrows flashed. “No?” she said, instantly defensive. “What would make you say that?”
I leaned back. “Well, to start, you desperately avoid saying ‘sex.’ You think ‘hard’ is a bad word and you use weird euphemisms like ‘late night activity’ to keep your speech strictly non-sexual. As far as I’m concerned, that’s some damning evidence.”
“That means nothing.”
“Then say it.”
“Say what?”
“Sex.”
Lia uncrossed her arms and slammed her hands onto her hips. “Sex,” she scoffed, throwing in a shrug to convey nonchalance. “There you have it. That work for you?”
“In a sentence.”
“This is not an erotic spelling bee, Lukas.”
I laughed. “Pretend it is.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re the one who’s bothered by what I said, so just do it, Lia. You know you want to.”
She gaped at me, so visibly in awe of my nerve that I was sure she was about to turn on her prissy ballet flats and storm out of my office. But instead, she surprised me, tapping her foot twice, inhaling deep then breathing out, “Fine. You want it in a sentence, then here it is: You. Have. Sex,” she enunciated. “You probably have a lot of sex. I suspect you’re going to have more sex than I’m willing to hear every night. You love talking about sex – so much so that you’re forcing me to talk about sex. Everything out of your mouth sounds like sex. Sex,” Lia finished breathlessly, crossing her arms over her chest. “There. That was at least four sentences. You happy now?”