Page 33 of Naughty or Nice

I round the corner to my building. I have an apartment above the company headquarters, which makes life easy when I’m working late. It’s time to hit the shower and go out. Maybe a few drinks and a female companion will fit the bill.

Even my cock mocks me. No one will make me forget her—not now. Everything we’ve shared, every intense second has only ramped up the way I feel. It’s like an obsession, an addiction, and neither is healthy or acceptable but I am powerless to stop it.

And as if to prove my point I see her—in the foyer of my building, chatting to security. She’s leaning on their high-rise desk, legs crossed at the ankles. Judging by the sin-inspiring shoes, she hasn’t changed since I saw her at work, only donned the black coat that’s tied tight at the waist.

I stop short, staring through the glass as though at any moment she will vanish. And then I hear her laugh. It escapes through the door as someone opens it to leave and there’s no mistaking it.

I realise belatedly that the person is holding the door open for me, and I give him a brief nod of thanks as I take hold of it.

But I don’t enter—not yet.

I’m wrapped up in watching her, so relaxed, at ease, chatting, and the way others respond to her, get caught up in her happy web. Just like at the party, where everyone hung on her every word. Now she has Ron—a security guard, built like a wrestler, with a face that doesn’t smile—beaming like a man-child.

And then he spies me, clears his throat as he gives a brief nod.

She steps back, turns to face me.

I move before her eyes reach me, striding into the foyer. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.’

I scan her face as I get nearer, looking for any hint as to what’s brought her here.

Has she spoken to Nate? Does she know the truth? Is she here to discuss it? Or the deal?

All these questions blaze through my mind, racing with the crazy heat her nearness instils, but I can read nothing other than surprise in her face, in the flare to her eyes and her parted lips.

Which is odd since it’s my building—who else does she expect to see?

And then heat flushes up her chest, her mouth snaps shut, her eyes drop and she fiddles with the handbag over her shoulder. ‘I thought we could talk...’

She wets her lips nervously and looks up into my face. She’s all demure and inviting at once, and I can only just about manage, ‘Now?’

‘If you’re free...’

If I wasn’t, I know I’d be making myself so. ‘Have you eaten?’ I ask.

I don’t know why I’m proposing dinner, but I haven’t eaten, and I suspect she hasn’t found time to either. And dinner feels safe.

Safer than the other thing that springs to mind.

My body throbs with it. Sex with Eva. I want her so much it hurts. There’s the ache of longing, of desire, but there’s a greater ache—a riskier one, the one I know I should listen to. Dinner in a public place will help.

‘Erm...no.’

‘Let’s talk over dinner. I just need a quick shower.’

The mention of a shower has her cheeks flushing deeper. ‘Shall I wait here?’ she asks.

My sanity says yes. Having her in my place would be too intimate. It would be too easy. And the look in her eyes is feeding that realisation.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Come up and I’ll fix you a drink.’

She looks to the security guard as I move off. ‘Thanks, Ron.’

And then she falls into step beside me as I head to the lift, the doors already opening to greet us.

Every one of my senses, pumped up from my run, is doing overtime as we enter the space together and that warning ache builds. I use my pass to send the lift to my private floor and step back—a feeble attempt at creating distance.

‘Nice run?’