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“That is true. I’ll be ready at eleven tomorrow morning, Mr. North.”
“Fuck,” he rasps, “if you keep calling me that, we won’t get through this trip without me making unacceptable demands.”
“I will do some research tonight to ascertain what constitutes an unacceptable demand from a boss. I’ve been told it’s my job on this trip to manage you, so I need to be fully abreast of what I should be managing.”
“Whoever told you to manage me needs a pay raise.”
“Is it bad that I want to touch myself right now?” My hand is already making its way down my body.
Owen takes a moment to come back to me on that question and when he does, his voice is so guttural it unleashes a whole new level of need in me. “I’ve fought myself over calling you all weekend, Charlize. My dick has been in my hand far more than I care to admit.”
Holy mother of all things dirty.
I really want to have phone sex with Owen right now. More than I’ve ever wanted phone sex with any man. But that is the last thing we should do.
“I’m sure you’ve been to London,” I say, shifting the conversation completely, “but I always like to ensure my boss is well prepared. Make sure you take an umbrella and clothes for layering.”
It turns out that Owen is as good at shifting conversations as I am. “What did you tell your mother about me?”
“Not your name.”
“That’s disappointing.”
“You won’t feel disappointed when she figures out who I’m seeing. You’ll feel all kinds of frustrated when she starts harassing you into doing things you don’t want to do.”
“What kinds of things?”
“You think I should prepare you?”
“It’s the right thing to do since I’m the man who’ll be by your side for at least twelve months.”
Oh. My.
“Do your five-year plans come together as fast as your one-year plans?”
“I’ve never had a one-year plan come together this fast. But then, I had some help with it. I do recall you being the one who first discussed using me for sex for a year. A woman can’t make a suggestion like that and expect the man not to run with it.”
“My job is to manage you, after all.”
“Then, how about you do some managing and get me ready for your mother?”
“No,” I smile into the phone, “I think I’ll see where the wind blows us on this. You did mention you like my impulsive ways.”
“Trouble,” he murmurs, and I swear I hearhissmile. “You’re the very best kind.”
“Goodnight, Owen. I’ll see you at eleven in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Charlize.” He’s saying goodnight, but everything in his voice is telling me he would stay on this call with me all night if that was what I wanted.
If only he knew how much I want that.
I’ve never been the kind of girl to make a five-year plan, let alone a one-year plan. Well, that’s not exactly true. I’ve made plans before, the kind that involved travel and forgetting heartbreak.
With Owen, though, I’m already making a one-year plan.
I want lots of sex and lots of late-night conversations with this man.
17
