“It’s not a model.” She rolled her eyes and took my jacket, hanging it in a closet filled with a vast array of coats and jackets in shades of creams, grays, and blacks. “I live here.”
I’d been too distracted to notice she’d been standing there in a peach silk robe the entire time, her hair piled high on top of her head. Full face of makeup, though. Of course. She couldn’t let her guard down to save her life.
She shot me a sexy side smirk as I came into her space, tugging on the sash around her waist until her robe fell open.
“Oh, God,” I moaned, biting my lip. Nothing underneath. “I love a girl who shows up ready to go.”
I scooped her up, grabbing her lush ass as she wrapped her thighs around my hips.
She pointed. “Down the hall.” I buried my head in the inviting space of her soft cleavage as I followed her directions.
“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” I whispered as I laid her down softly on the bed. Her knees clenched together, though she probably didn’t realize she was doing it. I placed a hand on her left knee, then slid down between her thighs and parted her until she was in full bloom. As I lowered myself to taste her arousal she melted herself into the thick blankets, giving herself to me once more.
* * *
A couple hours later, I lay awake in my own bed just blocks from Addison’s place. I’d left the moment we were finished, not wanting to overstay my welcome. It was maybe eleven, and I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept replaying my hour with her. I’d filled the entire hour, too. I didn’t want to waste a single moment with that luxurious pussy of hers.
My phone buzzed on my nightstand. A text from Addison asking if I was still awake.
I waited a moment before calling her back. “You know I don’t text.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but everyone else I know is asleep.”
Her voice held a sort of smoky, Scarlett Johansson quality to it that instantly made my dick hard. “Why’d you assume I’d be up?”
“Am I bothering you? God. I shouldn’t have called. I don’t want you thinking we’re friends or anything.”
“Aren’t we, though?”
“Can men and women ever truly be just friends?” she moaned.
“I think they made a movie about that.”
“Besides, I don’t like labels. I don’t want to label whatever this is. It just… is what it is.”
“Fair.” I rolled onto my back, settling into the covers. “So, what’s on your mind tonight, lovely?”
“I have this big work meeting tomorrow,” she hissed. Even over the phone, I could feel her tension. “I’m really stressing out.”
“What’s it about?”
“I can’t tell you, because I don’t want you knowing what I do for a living,” she said. “Basically, I’m pitching myself to this new client. But this other co-worker of mine is also pitching himself. If this client picks me, it could mean having my best year ever. Winning some awards. Growing my client list. Notoriety. Basically everything I’ve ever dreamed of would come true if this person chooses me.”
“Who’s your competition? Are they any good?”
“Yes,” she said. “If I’m being honest. We’re both good, though. He’s just a tiny bit better. But he’s such an asshole.”
I laughed. “Listen, if this client of yours has an ounce of good sense about him, he’ll see right through the other guy’s bullshit. You just worry about yourself. You can’t control what the other guy does or who the client chooses. Everything’ll be fine in the end.”
“Okay. You’re right.” She breathed in and out slowly. “I’m going to bed now. Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”
“You want to meet for lunch tomorrow?” I offered. “I could take your mind off of things for a little while.”
“Wilder,” she laughed, “you just had me tonight. And you just had me a few days ago. This is exactly what we’re not supposed to do. Once a week!”
“Come on. You know you want it again.”
“I do,” she admitted. “As much as I hate it to admit it. Besides, my sister wants to do lunch again tomorrow, and I already told her I would. She’ll kill me if I canceled.”
“All right, lovely,” I sighed. “While you’re eating your Cobb salad and gossiping with your dear sister, I want you to remember the way my tongue felt between your legs and the way my hair felt between your fingers as you screamed out my name.”
“Goodnight, Wilder.”
“You’re glowing,” Coco said as soon as I sat down. She’d beat me to the restaurant that next day. “There’s something different about you.”
I attempted to stifle the smile on my face, but it was no use.
“You got laid again,” she whispered.
I scanned the room, wondering if I was going to run into Wilder again like I had the last time I was out with my sister. And then I promptly scolded myself for thinking about him like that.
“Maybe.” I unfolded the linen napkin from my place setting and refolded it across my lap before pushing my bread plate up two inches until it aligned with the top of my salad plate. “There. Much better.”
“The, um, dating app guy,” she said. “What’s his name?”
“His name isn’t important,” I answered. “It’s just a little arrangement we have.”