white clutch purse and the cup of coffee I ordered for Henley.
“Am I acceptable?” I turn, allowing him to view the ensemble from all angles.
“No.” Henley’s low voice rolls over me.
I laugh, delighted with his honesty. I’m well aware my outfit doesn’t meet the dress code at Blaine Technologies.
Orlando, my self-appointed defender, bristles with indignation. “You Americans know nothing about beauty. She is perfection, a ray of sun shining upon us. With her hair, her . . .” He waves at my chest.
“Big breasts?” I tease.
“She’s mine,” Henley growls, his possessiveness exciting me. “Don’t look at her big breasts.” He opens the passenger door. “Kitten.” He holds out his hand.
I pass him the cup of coffee. “I brought you coffee, black, no milk, no sugar, no whipped cream, and hell no to the chocolate sprinkles.”
“You remembered.” He sets the cup on top of his car and helps me into the vehicle, his grip strong and sure.
“I’d never forget.” I smile at Henley.
“See how she takes cares of you.” Orlando swirls his hands in the air. “You, big American dog, are unworthy of her.”
Henley turns his head and levels a hard gaze on Orlando. The passionate Italian immediately stops talking and his face grows pale.
I smother my laughter. My behemoth is an intimidating sight. “Ciao, Orlando.” I wave at my new friend. “I might see you—”
Henley slams the door, cutting off my words. I watch him with amusement as he moves to the driver’s side, fills the seat, places the cup in the cup holder. The aroma of freshly brewed java mixes with his cedar and citrus cologne, the combination intoxicating.
“Are you jealous of Orlando?” I ask. Henley says nothing, driving quickly, his focus on the road. He weaves the car adeptly through the already bustling traffic. “Orlando saw me eating alone last night . . . and this morning. He kept me company.” The aggressive Italian distracted me from my thoughts, from my sadness.
“Did he touch you?” Henley’s tone is surly.
He is jealous. “Nope.” I tap my feet against the carpeted floor. Bandages protect my heels. “For some reason I only want my big American dog to touch me.” The lines around Henley’s mouth smooth. “I thought about you this morning while I stood naked under the showerhead, the water running over my breasts, between my legs.” I play with the collar of my blazer.
His gaze darts to my fingers and returns to the road.
“Did you think of me?” I place my hand on his thigh and he stiffens. “I hope so. It’s tomorrow and I’m eager to return the favor, very eager.” I knead his tensed leg muscles.
“I’ve haven’t had sex for five years,” I continue. “I’ve been tested a zillion times since then, and I’m on birth control.” This sounds foolish and I laugh. “I’m a paranoid optimist.” I move my hand higher on his thigh. “Is there a reason we should use condoms?” I want to feel everything, not to have anything between us.
“No.” He covers my hand with his, stilling my stroking, his palms rough and warm. “We’ll have sex, but not today.”
I frown. “You promised me I could return the favor today.”
Henley squeezes my hand. “And I’ll keep my promise. I’ll always keep my promises to you.” I open my mouth. “We’ll do other things,” he explains as he pulls the car into the underground parking lot.
“Ohhh . . . I’ll suck your cock.” I beam at him. “In the elevator.”
“Not in the elevator.” Henley parks his car. Our vehicle isn’t the first to be parked on the executive parking level. A limousine stretches across one corner. Three black sedans are slotted in the spots near the entrance. A gray-haired lady exits from a silver Jaguar.
Henley opens my door for me, his expression serious. I slip my hand into his, savoring the connection. “I’ve made you late for work.”
“I can work from anywhere.” He folds his fingers around mine.
“Am I acceptable?” I turn, allowing him to view the ensemble from all angles.
“No.” Henley’s low voice rolls over me.
I laugh, delighted with his honesty. I’m well aware my outfit doesn’t meet the dress code at Blaine Technologies.
Orlando, my self-appointed defender, bristles with indignation. “You Americans know nothing about beauty. She is perfection, a ray of sun shining upon us. With her hair, her . . .” He waves at my chest.
“Big breasts?” I tease.
“She’s mine,” Henley growls, his possessiveness exciting me. “Don’t look at her big breasts.” He opens the passenger door. “Kitten.” He holds out his hand.
I pass him the cup of coffee. “I brought you coffee, black, no milk, no sugar, no whipped cream, and hell no to the chocolate sprinkles.”
“You remembered.” He sets the cup on top of his car and helps me into the vehicle, his grip strong and sure.
“I’d never forget.” I smile at Henley.
“See how she takes cares of you.” Orlando swirls his hands in the air. “You, big American dog, are unworthy of her.”
Henley turns his head and levels a hard gaze on Orlando. The passionate Italian immediately stops talking and his face grows pale.
I smother my laughter. My behemoth is an intimidating sight. “Ciao, Orlando.” I wave at my new friend. “I might see you—”
Henley slams the door, cutting off my words. I watch him with amusement as he moves to the driver’s side, fills the seat, places the cup in the cup holder. The aroma of freshly brewed java mixes with his cedar and citrus cologne, the combination intoxicating.
“Are you jealous of Orlando?” I ask. Henley says nothing, driving quickly, his focus on the road. He weaves the car adeptly through the already bustling traffic. “Orlando saw me eating alone last night . . . and this morning. He kept me company.” The aggressive Italian distracted me from my thoughts, from my sadness.
“Did he touch you?” Henley’s tone is surly.
He is jealous. “Nope.” I tap my feet against the carpeted floor. Bandages protect my heels. “For some reason I only want my big American dog to touch me.” The lines around Henley’s mouth smooth. “I thought about you this morning while I stood naked under the showerhead, the water running over my breasts, between my legs.” I play with the collar of my blazer.
His gaze darts to my fingers and returns to the road.
“Did you think of me?” I place my hand on his thigh and he stiffens. “I hope so. It’s tomorrow and I’m eager to return the favor, very eager.” I knead his tensed leg muscles.
“I’ve haven’t had sex for five years,” I continue. “I’ve been tested a zillion times since then, and I’m on birth control.” This sounds foolish and I laugh. “I’m a paranoid optimist.” I move my hand higher on his thigh. “Is there a reason we should use condoms?” I want to feel everything, not to have anything between us.
“No.” He covers my hand with his, stilling my stroking, his palms rough and warm. “We’ll have sex, but not today.”
I frown. “You promised me I could return the favor today.”
Henley squeezes my hand. “And I’ll keep my promise. I’ll always keep my promises to you.” I open my mouth. “We’ll do other things,” he explains as he pulls the car into the underground parking lot.
“Ohhh . . . I’ll suck your cock.” I beam at him. “In the elevator.”
“Not in the elevator.” Henley parks his car. Our vehicle isn’t the first to be parked on the executive parking level. A limousine stretches across one corner. Three black sedans are slotted in the spots near the entrance. A gray-haired lady exits from a silver Jaguar.
Henley opens my door for me, his expression serious. I slip my hand into his, savoring the connection. “I’ve made you late for work.”
“I can work from anywhere.” He folds his fingers around mine.
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