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Suddenly my stomach is bursting with nerves. As confident as I am in this house, I don't know what Derek is thinking when it comes to me. He could never want to see me again. He could have already moved on to another realtor and I'd never know. I can't afford for him to shut me out or make me leave. This is my last chance.
I'm taking deep breaths to soothe my nerves when my phone buzzes with a text from Anna, Impress the pants off him!
A few seconds later. And yes, I do mean that literally.
I laugh, causing the secretary to look at me skeptically. I text her back, You're relentless.
Get it girl.
Anna has spent the last three days hounding me about my second encounter with Derek. She thinks I should have tracked him down sooner after he walked out on the kiss. I know that this is better. Now I'm coming to him with something solid, not just hurt feelings.
The secretary picks up her phone and listens. "Yes, sir." She hangs back up, then she waves me over. "You can go in."
My fingers are gripping my bag way too tightly. Taking a deep breath, I force my nerves back down my throat and put on my best smile. He's only a man, and I have the house of his dreams. This will work.
I open the door to Derek's office and have to blink away the brightness. His office is a huge open space, the wall across from the door entirely made of glass and I find myself smiling. At least his preferences are consistent. There's confusion in his face when he looks up and sees me. "Penelope. I wasn't expecting you."
I stop far enough from him that I don't feel that intense pull his body has for me. "I did try to contact you. Your secretary said you were out of town."
"I was," he says. "She screens everything while I'm away."
I'm not sure what's a lie anymore. He certainly isn't acting the way he was when he ran out the door days ago. I'm kind of disappointed by that, but I press on. "Oh. Well that's fine. I came in because I have a surprise for you."
He raises an eyebrow. "What is it?"
I smile at him. "It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you."
He steeples his fingers over his lips to hide a smile. "I suppose not."
My nerves pick up again, worried he'll say no. "Do you have time today to come with me?"
He thinks for a second, and picks up the phone. "Lisa, cancel my appointments for the rest of the day, will you?" When he hangs up he grins at me. "I do now."
Relief wells up in me through my toes. I didn't expect him to cancel everything. "I hope there wasn't anything too important."
"That's one of the benefits of being as rich as I am," he says. "People don't care if you cancel. They'll always reschedule."
He doesn't say it arrogantly, just as a fact. I thought by seeing the houses he could afford I was getting a glimpse into his world, but I realize now that it's completely alien to me. I wonder what it would be like to be so rich that no one cares about what you do. How does that affect who you are?
He leads out the door, and I follow him. I wave to his secretary; she gives me a suspicious look back. I can't blame her. Even though I told her I was Derek's realtor, having a woman show up that makes him cancel the rest of his plans was clearly strange.
It hasn't seemed too awkward yet, and I think that maybe we're just going to pretend that nothing happened. That he didn't walk out after fucking me senseless and kissing me. And you know what? Maybe it's better that way. Maybe it's better that we leave a good thing alone.
I'm following Derek towards the bank of elevators when he grabs my hand, pulling me sideways and through a door. It closes behind us, covering the room in blackness until Derek turns on the lights. We're in a conference room. It's a lush set up, with comfy chairs and a circular table.
There are no windows, given that it's in the center of the building. Several gorgeous paintings hang on the walls instead. I turn back to see Derek click the lock on the door.
"What are you doing?"
In answer, he kisses me. It's soft at first, hesitant. Firmer when I don't pull away. "I did have to go out of town,” he says, “and it was unexpected. But I couldn't stop thinking about you. About this."
There are so many things I should ask him. But after spending three days worried about my job and this damn house, it's so good just to feel without thinking.
"The door is locked," he whispers. "No one's coming in. That is, if you can keep quiet."
It's so tempting I almost go for it. Especially when he kisses me again. “Wait,” I manage to say, disengaging from him. His half-open mouth calls to me; I resist. “We can't.”
“I'm tired of hearing you say--”
“We can't,” I interrupt, “Because I don't understand what you want from me. I don't get why you kissed me and ran, why you didn't speak for three days...” I'm rambling now but the box is open, my inner thoughts tumbling free. “All this time dragging me along but never looking at the houses seriously, then screwing me and acting so strange. I can't keep doing this until I know why.”
He's gone still as stone. Even so, he's got the feel to him—like he's fluid enough to catch hold of me no matter if it's from a dead stop. “I can't,” he whispers.
“But why?”
Ruffling his hair he starts to pace. “It's too fucking complicated, Penelope. Can't we just do this?”
“What, fuck where people can hear us?” I snap. “Is that what you want? To get caught with me, is that the only way you can get off or something?”
His eyebrows dart lower. “No. I'd rather not get seen, of course.”
“Of course,” I shot back, laughing. “So that's it. You don't want the world to know that you're sleeping with me.” It was all making a horrible kind of sense now. “Billionaire Derek Conway is too good for a lowly, pathetic realtor so he sneaks around with her in houses and plays games. Real romantic. Real fucking great.” I was getting furious the more I worked this out.
I was just a toy. Somewhere along the way he'd decided he didn't need a house, he just needed a pussy to shove his dick into, and no one could know. I was the perfect front.
There was a storm in his face. Derek was more scowl than man. He strides me way, cornering me before I can react. “You think this is about romance? That's your first mistake. Here's your second.” His fingers find their way under my skirt; I gasp. “Thinking that I give a damn if anyone knows I'm fucking you. I'll show you how little I care—let's show my whole office how pretty your voice is.”
He thrusts two fingers into me, and I barely control my moan. What spark I had turns from anger into lust. I want to hate him but my body loves him. “Fucking hell," I grit out between my teeth, and he laughs softly.
He curls his fingers inside me, searching for that small spot that engulfs me like a live wire. The stroking of his fingers feels so good, and I jump when they find my rough patch of nerves. "There it is,” he groans.
I just glare at him. If I open my mouth, it won't be words that come out. Bastard. He adds a third finger, increasing his speed so that he's fully fucking me with his hand. My knees turn to jelly and the wall behind me is the only thing that's keeping me standing. His thumb finds my clit and I go over, clinging to him so I don't fall. I press my face into his arm and my moan comes out as a whimper as the pleasure rushes through me, leaving me breathless. No one else has been able to make me come the way he does, like his body and mine are in sync.
"Impressive," he whispers, reaching for his belt. "I wonder if you'll be able to hold it in with me inside you."
I wonder that too. He pulls up my skirt, lifting me so I'm pinned against the wall. My breath catches. "Put me down."
"Afraid I'll drop you?"
