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"There’s so much light," I exclaim, walking directly to the large window that stretches out onto the terrace. "I saw the size of the windows on the plan, but this is truly beautiful."
I resist the temptation to walk on the balcony and soak in a few rays of sun. I'm here for measurements.
"I'll leave the two of you to do your business," Frank announces. "I need to check some wiring at an apartment two floors above. Since I'm here, I'll do it now. I'll be back in half an hour. It's unlikely that any of the boys will bother you up here."
Oh, so much for the buffer. But as he leaves, I notice Christopher inspecting the place without enthusiasm. "This looks so—"
"Don't say another word," I interrupt. "I know this looks like an empty shell right now, but it'll look welcome and warm when I'm done with it. I promise I'll even bake cookies in your brand new kitchen the day you move in, so it smells like home."
He blinks, clearly taken aback by my offer. To be honest, I'm surprised myself. It's not like I'm going around offering to bake for my clients. But recalling his boyish enthusiasm when he stepped into my kitchen after training Lucas, I know this will make him happy.
"You're very sweet, Victoria," he says simply while I down the last drops of my eggnog.
"I'll start taking measurements now."
"I'll help."
"No, you can enjoy your apartment. I'm going to do my job." Placing the now empty eggnog cup next to the front door, I fish out the measuring tape from my bag and get to work. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him heading out to the balcony. Since I'm here anyway, I’ll measure the e
ntire apartment, just so I can rest assured that there are no unpleasant surprises. I finish measuring most of the rooms in the apartment in a record time, leaving the kitchen for last.
Christopher's pacing around in the living room. It's obvious he's not used to just sitting around, doing nothing.
"If you're bored, help me measure the kitchen."
"Sure. What do you need me to do?"
I hand him one end of the tape, instructing him to walk to the end of the wall we're measuring. As he does what I say, I can't help noticing the way the fabric of his pants molds to his ass. Those are some great pants and an even better ass. Damn, that suit he's wearing should be illegal. Or maybe his ass should be.
"That's about nine feet and two inches," he says.
"Not about. I need the exact number. Every inch matters."
"Really?"
"Yeah," I reply, head bent down to my phone while I wait for him to tell me the correct number to type in my notes. "All your kitchen furniture will be custom made, and if the counter is even half an inch too large, we're going to have a problem. So even a fraction of an inch matters."
Belatedly I realize how I sound. When I look up at him, he's grinning from ear to ear. I can't even pin this one on him; I laid my trap and stepped right into it. I begin to wonder if my subconscious is trying to sabotage me.
"Nine feet and two and a half inches," Christopher says. To his credit, he keeps a straight face.
"Thank you."
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
I’m surprised he picked up on this. New spaces inspire me, which shouldn't be a problem in my profession, but in my case, it is. On countless occasions similar to this one, in which I only saw the location after my client got the key, I couldn't stop talking about all the shiny new ideas inspiring me. That brought me more than one accusation of trying to upsell. I honestly wasn't, but I can never stop the influx of ideas when I step into a virgin space. I try to contain the avalanche of ideas that threaten to burst out of me. To no avail.
"Well…," I start, then talk his ear off for the next little while until I'm out of breath.
"Victoria? No offense, but that all sounds like pig latin to me. If there's anything you know will make this place look like a home, go ahead. I'm giving you carte blanche." Evidently, I was so immersed in my proposal, I didn't take notice of him advancing toward me, or me backing into the wall opposite the kitchen. One of his hands is propped against the wall near my ear, and with the other one, he twirls a strand of my hair in his fingers.
"Really? I don't want you to think I'm trying to upsell you things. I want you to love your new home." The words tumble out of my mouth at an alarming speed, but Christopher's proximity is setting me on edge. Drawing in a deep breath, I attempt to calm myself, but my heart rate ratchets up. Feeling his fingers move from my hair to my temple and then descend to my jaw isn't helping.
"I was hoping it was just an excuse to spend more time with me," he says gently. The space between us seems to become increasingly smaller, even though neither of us moves. "You smell like eggnog." Something in his voice has changed. I can't pinpoint what; maybe his timbre is lower, but it sounds more intimate than it did seconds ago. It sends desire coursing through me, and I become aware of the fact that my breasts are squished against his chest. His hot breath lands on my cheek, like a forbidden whisper. "I am going to kiss you, Victoria." His words unleash a hunger inside me, so deep and so powerful that I have no hope of resisting it. I nod slightly, and then his mouth covers mine. I part my lips invitingly, and when he coaxes my tongue with his, I'm on fire.
Oh, this man knows how to kiss. He is demanding and in control, and I love every second of it. Before long, we're a tangle of limbs because I need to feel so much more, and I'm not alone in my desperation. One of his hands finds the hem of my sweater, and I shudder. Pressing his knee between my legs, he opens my thighs. Driven by a will of their own, my hips roll forward, and I find myself pressing my center against his thigh. A rough groan reverberates from his chest, and his hand slides up, stopping where the fabric of my bra meets my skin. All movement stops for a few interminable seconds, and I realize he's seeking permission.
I nod almost imperceptibly, and our control snaps. Christopher cups my breast over the fabric of the bra, and my nipples turn hard within seconds. His mouth descends to my neck.
