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“Why me?” I whisper. “When you could’ve asked the most influential decorators in California?”
He sets down his cell on the counter and pivots on the stool so he is facing me. He places both palms on my bare thighs. Heat flows from his skin into me at a cellular level, and it hits that spot between my legs. The man only has to look at me, and I turn to mush.
“I’m not going to lie… I like you. Really like you, and that means I trust you.”
A ball of doubt grows in my chest. “You don’t know me,” I rasp out. “You might know my body, but that’s not all of me. I might be crap at what I do and completely mess up your house. Did you think of that?”
His eyes dart over my face, but there is no humor in his expression. “Know that I don’t make rash decisions. The calculated riskswiththe probability of a desired outcome are considered. If I fuck up, I have strategies to overcome any problem.” He lowers his face, and when he looks up, there is a gleam of mischievousness in his eyes. “I need to emphasize the worddesire. Personal desire is something I’m very considerate about.” He leans closer so his mouth is only inches from mine. “I also like giving people a chance. Is it a crime to stare at my beautiful decorator all day and imagine what I could do with that ass?” His hands squeeze my thighs.
My thighs open for him.
“Not a crime,” I murmur. “So it’ll be decorator and client… with benefits. And I’m also an interior designer. You have a two for one deal.” I reach up and cup his cheek. “I prefer to think of you as a friend than my client.”
Large hands slide under my rear. He lifts me, and I squeal, grabbing hold of his shoulders to balance. I land on the counter, and Franklin slides the dishes and food into the sink. Crockery clashes with a bang, and I’m sure some of it broke.
“Consider breakfast cleared away.”
I laugh, my head falling back, and I imagine Sally’s reaction if she knew how Franklin cleared the breakfast dishes.
Franklin’s eyes darken with sexual craving.
Leaning back on my elbows, I stare at his handsome face as my bent knees fall to the sides.
Franklin slideshisboxers over my thighs, and then I’m pulled closer, my back now on the cool tile and my legs wrapped over his shoulders. He kisses my pussy, licks, and tastes me.
“I’m ready for dessert,” he says, almost in a growl.
I giggle. “You don’t eat dessert after breakfast.”
Then I’m silenced, my hands slamming against the cold tile as Franklin’s mouth and fingers leave me breathless.
* * *
Every dayfor the next week feels like a month. I miss seeing Franklin’s beautiful face and have to be satisfied with listening to his sexy voice over the cell phone when I leave voice messages about how I’m remodeling the house in a way I think will suit him.
I’m living off the excitement of being with someone new.
The sex is like an adrenaline hit, and I don’t want it to end.
In the back of my mind, a voice warns me I’m mixing business with sexual benefits, and it could end badly. The way I feel when I’m with Franklin makes me reckless because I feel like a different person.
My cell is beside my laptop on my desk. I sigh as I stare at the screen, waiting for it to light up with Franklin’s name.
“You’ve had that same expression on your face all week.” Hugh edges his rear onto the corner of my desk. “I swear you’re a different person lately.”
With bent elbows on the table, I lean my chin in my palms and stare at him. I can’t hide my smile. “I’m happy, okay?”
“You should be. We have secured two contracts this week on twenty-million-dollar properties in the OC.”
A text comes through on my cell, so I immediately pick it up to read.
Franklin.
Please feel free to stay at the house all weekend. Use the time to decide what the house needs and what needs to change. Living somewhere helps with decision-making. See you when I get back from San Fran on Tuesday?
He’s away, and yet he wants to see me on Tuesday.
A weekday.
