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“I’d love to take her out for drinks when you’re not around. Three’s a crowd.”
“Don’t you think that would be unprofessional?”
“I’m a gentleman, Christensen. I was talking about taking the time to get to know her. That’s how connections are made.”
“Connections?”
“Yeah, a word you can’t spell.”
“I planned on taking the time to get to know her as well.” Not that I’d know where to start.
He laughs.
He fucking laughs.
“You know what they say, once a playboy, always a playboy.” He mocks.
I’m a once and done kind of guy, and I make no qualms about it.
You have one chance to impress me.
If you blow my mind, I’ll grant you a second ride. Don’t expect a third.
I don’t do birthdays or Sundays at your parents’.
Connections are for people who are looking for commitment—another word I can’t spell.
“Here’s a word you can spell, hiatus.” Rhys grins. “You don’t pose a threat since for the next eighteen days, you agreed to be a good boy and keep your cock zipped up.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m simply reminding you of our bet,” he says.
I narrow my gaze.
“You set me up, Hartford.”
“You’re the one who just said your interest in Arianne is strictly professional. Mine isn’t. She’s fucking delicious. The somewhat conservative three-piece suit is alluring… a refreshing tease. It makes you want to peel it off to discover what’s hidden underneath…”
And I have. Many times today in my mind.
“Can you imagine loosening that tight bun and running your fingers through her silky hair?”
Yes.
“In my experience, the toughest nuts to crack… are the wildest.”
My past conquests have been easy. Too easy.
Rhys’s vivid description is like audio-porn. I’m as revved up as I was earlier in Arianne’s presence.
Damn him.
“You can’t go after her,” I tell him.
My argument is weak. I know it. He knows it.
“I can and I will.” He stands up and pats me on the shoulder. “It’s a win-win, Christensen. You get the hot bike, and I get the hot girl.”
