I roll my eyes. “I’m expecting a guest. Her name’s Lainey. Tell her Sal paid an unexpected visit, and I’ll call her when I’ve gotten rid of him. Take her number. You got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Great. Thanks, Herb.” I place the phone back in the cradle and rush back to the kitchen. I find Sal with a glass of wine in his hand, the bottle open on the table. “Good stuff, man.” He toasts the air and takes a huge gulp.
I want to kill him. Of course it’s good. It cost me fifty-fucking-quid. I stomp to the fridge and grab a beer. “Isn’t Moya expecting you home?” I ask as subtly as I can.
“I have an hour before she and Mia are due home from a supper date.”
I growl to myself. “Great.”
“Come on, then. I’m starving.” He picks up his fork and bangs it on the table like a caveman. “It’ll be nice to eat in peace for once.”
Peace? The chance would be a fine thing. An hour later, Sal has monstered his way through the stroganoff, eaten half the apple pie, polished off the bottle of wine, harped on and on about the failed Adidas presentation and his “miserable” life. And I’m a grumpy fucker.
“Well, suppose I’d better get going.” He stretches back in his chair, rubbing his full belly. “Sorry if I’ve eaten your rations for the rest of the week.”
“No sweat.” I had a couple of mouthfuls, but I couldn’t appreciate how good it was because I’ve been too stressed the whole time. If Lainey’s given up and gone home, I’ll fucking kill Sal. It feels like it’s taken everything out of me to get to this point in our . . . relationship? Affair? Fling? What is this?
I see Sal out, having a quick scan of the corridor. Nothing. “Bye,” I say abruptly, slamming the door behind him. I jump on the phone and call down to Herb. “Did you see her? Tell her?”
“No, sir. No one showed up to tell.”
“Oh.” Shit, she didn’t come? Of course she didn’t come. “Thanks, Herb.” I drop the phone and stare blankly at it for a few dazed minutes, feeling part anger and part frustration. She didn’t come. I’ve been stood up.
Knock, knock.
I roll my eyes, yanking the door open. “Sal, I love you, man, but—”
“Hey,” Lainey says softly.
I take hold of the side of the door, resting into it. “Hey,” I mimic, all anger and frustration falling away. “I thought you’d stood me up.” I thought you were still playing me.
“I spotted Sal outside, so I hung back,” she says. “I’ve been loitering outside like a weird person for over an hour.”
Oh, she’s cute. “Herb didn’t say.”
“I asked him not to.” She gives me a cheeky grin and my hands take on a mind of their own, reaching for her and pulling her in for a hug.
“Sal’s eaten our romantic dinner for two.” I can’t describe the feel of her returning my hug. But it’s good. So fucking good.
Lainey laughs, pulling away from me. “Ty Christianson cooked me a romantic meal?”
I shrug. “Hope you’re not hungry.”
“No, I’m disappointed.” Lainey looks at me, her eyes softening, and she slowly pushes her mouth to mine. “But it means we can do this again much sooner.”
Lord, have mercy on my soul. I collect her up, keeping our mouths together, and kick the door closed. I don’t head for the bed, though. I go to the couch, lowering to the seat and helping her get comfy, straddling my lap. And we kiss. Just kiss. We kiss forever, softly, slowly, with no prompt from either of us for it to proceed into anything more. I won’t deny that my dick is singing behind my jeans. But simply having her in my arms, her mouth on mine, it’s strangely satisfying. Amazing. It’s electric. Every time we touch, this happens. I’m blindsided. Is this what Dad always talked about?
All she’ll want from you is utter devotion, and it’ll be so natural for you to give it to her. That’s how you’ll know.
Lainey hums, her fingers lacing through my hair, her back arching and pushing her front harder to mine. Her tongue is warm and gently dueling with mine, our mouths in total sync, both of us pulling away now and then, our heads turning to take another angle before reconnecting and plunging our tongues again. My hands are resting lightly on her hips, but when she starts to grind down a little, my hold hardens. It’s like a red flag to a bull.
“Lainey,” I plead around our kiss. “Please.” Crazy as it might be, I don’t want to fuck. Yet. I want to pour her some wine and get to know the woman who has cast a spell over me. It’s not the first time I’ve spent time getting to know a woman, but it’s the first time I’ve felt it a necessity. Weird.
She bites my bottom lip and pulls away. “Look at you being all gentlemanly.”
“I know.” I laugh, as perplexed by it as Lainey. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I do.” God, I do. “But I thought we could have a wine or two. Talk.”
She immediately goes stiff in my arms. “You want to talk?”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I don’t know much about you.”
“There’s not much to know.” She swoops in and tackles my mouth again, a ploy to distract me.
I groan and force her away. She pouts. It’s adorable, but it’s not going to work. I’m as hungry for information as I am for her. “Let me get you a drink.”
She drops her head on an overdramatic sigh. “All right,” she says tiredly, dragging herself off my lap. “Go fetch my wine.”
I cock an eyebrow as I get up, making her grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
Heading for the kitchen, I snatch two glasses down and fill them with the non-fifty-quid bottle, and swipe them up, hurrying back. Lainey’s standing at the window when I return, looking out across the city. “Enjoying the view?” I ask as I approach.
She turns and accepts the wine. “It’s beautiful.”
I join her, but I don’t admire the London skyline that I get to appreciate every day. I admire her. Just her. “It really is,” I reply quietly. She looks up at me, a small smile on her lips. “You look lovely, by the way.” I forgot to tell her when she arrived. I was too relieved to see her, and then I lost myself in that kiss.
She looks down at her simple blue shirt-dress and tan sandals. “Thank you. So do you.”
I, too, look down my body. I never did get around to getting any socks and shoes on. Stupid Sal. “Thanks.”
“You do casual well.” She indicates to my worn jeans. “I like it.”
I laugh. “What, you don’t like the suits, then?”
She shrugs a little. “I love the suits. But you’re a bit intimidating in them.”
“I am?”
“And ridiculously hot.” She peeks up at me. “Not that you aren’t now. But the suits . . .” She shudders, taking a sip of her wine.
A smirk spreads across my face as I watch her body respond to whatever thoughts she’s having. “That’s big of you to admit.”
She slowly turns away from the window and starts wandering casually across the lounge, gazing around. “What, that I find you irresistible?”