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13
Carm
When the cab pulls up outside our building and I step out, my hard-on is only slightly deflated. I wanted to tell that cab driver to take a detour to my condo, but no way can I have filthy sex with a woman like Bella Scott.
“So you’ll talk to Annie?” she asks, apparently completely unfazed that I almost smashed my lips to hers minutes ago.
Was it really a game to her? Can she turn her arousal off and on like a light switch?
“About?” I open the door to our office building and let her walk in first. She must’ve said something while my mind was drifting off, imagining the taste of her.
“The Hamptons.” She presses the elevator button.
“I haven’t yet, but I will. You’re going?”
She shrugs and steps into the elevator. “Yeah. I mean, life is too short. I’m going to allow myself this one summer to enjoy.”
“Oh.”
She’s trying to get a business off the ground, and we have this whole competition with Greg now. I can’t believe she’s going to leave the city every Friday through Sunday. I’m kind of jealous.
“What?” she asks, her eyes on me as we position ourselves on opposite sides of the elevator.
It’s only the two of us, and the arousing scent of her perfume surrounds me.
“Nothing. Just thought you were a go-getter.” I shrug.
The look she shoots back isn’t a nice one. “I am, but like I said, I’m doing this for myself without apology.”
The elevator doors open, and we step out. “Don’t be upset when I beat you then.”
She stops in her tracks then walks up to me. I back up against the wall. “You think just because Helena wants you, it’s in the bag. Well, you have no idea what I’m capable of, and spending my weekends in the Hamptons isn’t going to ruin anything.”
“If I cared to give it any thought, I’d have to say you’re jealous of Helena.”
Her gaze falls to my pocket, where Helena’s business card with her personal cell number rests. I don’t plan on using it, but I love the rush of pink ravishing Bella’s skin. She is jealous.
“Figures. You probably think every woman is jealous of the woman of the moment on your arm.” She shakes her head.
The door to my office opens and out steps Margo Gregory, my A-list client from Los Angeles.
“Am I interrupting?” Margo asks. She tucks her designer purse under her arm.
Everything about Margo is high class. She has money from a makeup company she started at twenty-one. Her high-end fashion and shoes cost more than some people’s rent. Success looks good on her. She’s in her late forties but looks like she’s thirty. No husband or kids. Loves the younger guys. I should know. In other words, the ideal client for a guy like me.
“Margo.” I smile then step away from Bella and do the whole kiss-on-each-cheek thing Margo loves. “Come. I found a new place I want to show you on the computer.”
“It looked like I was interrupting?” She eyes Bella like a spiteful twenty-year-old cat inspecting the new kitten her owner brought home.
“This is Bella Scott. We were discussing some issues we’ve been having with a shared client.”
“You’re a realtor too?” Margo asks.
“No. Bella does FSBOs,” I say.
Bella’s eyes narrow into small slits. “I better get going on that.” She smiles at Margo and turns on her heels.
As she walks into her office, I admire her ass and consider how well my hands would mold around her flesh before Margo hits me in the stomach with her purse.
