Technically.
“Hello, Whit.” Her voice is almost as husky as the last time she’d uttered my name.Whit! Oh God, Whit!“How are you?”
Me? Oh, I’m just going to hell…
3
MIMI
For the secondtime in as many weeks in the presence of Leif Whittington, I lock my knees to keep them from giving out. When I’d visualized this moment (and I have at least a dozen times this morning alone), my knees didn’t knock. They’re not knocking now, either. It’s more a case of one look at his hot self, and my whole body begins to pulse and tingle, nerve endings and pleasure points flashing like a dang pinball machine. I guess longtime unrequited lust will do that to a girl. The man was the object of my teenage fantasies and the stuff of my later much more X-rated imaginings, though nothing could top what happened in his apartment. I’ve never come so hard before and never fully clothed!
It’s safe to say that since my dark taste of his reality, my fascination has only increased.Show Daddy what he wants. I almost melted hearing those words inthatvoice. In fact, I think my brain might’ve experienced a little meltdown because it’s all I can think of when I look at him.
Jeez Louise, get your mind out of the gutter, Mimi. I barely recognize my own thoughts these days. It’s certainly true we’re not in Florida anymore, Toto.
Whit’s corner office,natch, is three times the size of my first apartment. But then, my first (and only ever) apartment was above my parents' garage. Decorated in shades of gray, navy, and black with the occasional streak of white, the color palette might’ve been inspired by the London skyline frames by the wall of windows. A meeting space dominates one corner, the table a white-gray marble, the eight black chairs around it appearing to have been designed to encourage brevity over comfort. A monochrome rug denotes a more welcoming space with two low leather sofas flanking a matching coffee table. One wall houses library-style cabinetry of midnight blue, and an old-fashioned ladder connects to a brass rail above. The floor and walls are dark and the artwork atmospheric, and in the center of it all is a monolithic stone desk—a piece of art in itself. Behind it stands Whit, and behind him is the city of London. He is a picture of masculinity, sexiness in shirtsleeves, and master of all he surveys.
He can sure master me. In fact, he did. All I need now is for the other inhabitants of the room to disappear and for him to crook a finger at me and whisperlift your skirt. Show me.
I suppress a shiver and remind myself he’s probablynothaving the same kind of thoughts, judging by his expression. He’s shocked to see me, of course he is. And I expect a normal person on a normal timeline would rather pluck out their own eyeballs than see Whit again after such an awkward… decoupling?De-fingering?
To put it another way, my post-orgasmic glow disappeared in the length of time it took him to remove his fingers and choke out my name. It’s not a moment I choose to dwell on because I also remember his expression as he watched me fall apart. What I saw in his eyes still has the power to take my breath away.
And that’s the reason I’m brave enough to stand here. The reason lady parts are currently as enthusiastic as a tween at a Taylor Swift concert. Externally, of course, I’m more relaxed. I’m a head tilt and a friendly, closed-lipped smile. Kind ofit’ssonice to see you.
Can I see more of you?
Pretty please?
I’m here for the experience… here, in freakin’ London! Standing in the office of my longtime secret crush with an amended agenda. And oh, my gosh, is that London Bridge in the distance?
Jody waddles over to Whit’s desk, slapping down the folder she’s carrying. My contract, already signed by the HR director. “I forgot, you two already know each other.”
“H-hardly,” Whit stutters, the words coming out like a motorbike with problems starting.How cute! I made the hot man stutter!
He seems to give his head a little shake before rounding his desk, so tall, dark, and so freakin’ handsome—he’s like Superman on attractive steroids. Then he’s here, in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, and those tiger eyes intent on mine. My poor little heart goes “Ah me”in an echo of Juliet, Romeo’s boo. My eyes flutter closed as he leans in to kiss my cheek. I inhale lungsful of his heady scent of cedarwood, spice, and black pepper, but it’s the scent of nostalgia that makes me want to melt.
My insides absolutely contract as his warm breath caresses my cheek, and I guess I must make some kind of noise or reaction because then his low voice rumbles, “Behave yourself.”
Not even! No way! Not when I’mthis closeto exploding again.
Yep, that’s what I saidxxx-plode.
He moves back a little without moving his hands from my shoulders. “It’s been a while,” he says as his eyes bore into mine in all their animal intensity, demanding I play along.
“Oh my gosh, ahotminute at least.” I don’t bother to hide my grin because his broad shoulders are already doing that for me. “I bet you’re surprised to see me again.”
This man, that voice, the experience, gives me all the shivers. That night was probably the first time in my life I wasn’t worried about my lack of thigh gap. It didn’t seem to bother him none, either. While I might not have come to London with Whit in mind, boy do I now want to know what makesDaddytick.
“You could say that,” he returns, his expression revealing no hint of his thoughts. He did seempleased to see me before. Pleased to feel me, too. But then things got awkward, and he said he didn’t realize who I was. That he was expecting someone else.Someone else he confused me for? Someone else he’d never met?I’ve spent a lot of time pondering this, and you bet your sweet behind I plan on having that delicious conundrum answered. Just not right now. And not back then, afterward, I mean, because I couldn’t get out of the place fast enough. Oh. The. Mortification. But I’m over it now. Mainly because I choose to be.
“But it was nice, right? The last time we saw each other.” Well, you saw a little more of me than I saw of you…
“Nice?” If ice had a voice, it would sound like that.
“Well, I thought it was nice.”
One of his brow quirks like a question mark. “Refresh my memory. What exactly was nice about it?”
