“Look, lovely,” I said, combing my fingers through the side of my hair. “I don’t do relationships, or anything like that, but if you wanted this to be a regular thing, I could probably make that happen.”
I couldn’t believe I was propositioning her. It never happened this way. It was usually the girl pretending she wasn’t interested in me, like I wouldn’t know what reverse psychology was, and her subtly hinting about hanging out again.
Addison made no mention of seeing me again, and I suppose the fact that she could have very easily walked out of there that night and I’d have never seen her again made me break my rules.
Her full lips arched upward at the corners as her blue eyes glinted. “This was a one-time thing, remember?”
She walked to the door, seconds from walking out of my life forever. I couldn’t let that happen.
I cut her off, placing my hand on the door. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear just a second ago.”
“What’s that?”
“I have to have you again.”
“Of course you want to be with me again,” I said. “I just let you tie me up and have your way with me.”
Wilder winced in pain—the emotional type, not the physical. I was quite positive most women threw themselves at him.
“I meant it when I said I don’t do relationships,” I said.
“I did too.” His teal eyes searched mine. “I don’t do relationships. Hooking up on a regular basis does not constitute a relationship, Addison. Not in my world.”
“You say that now,” I said, “but I know how these things happen. We’ll hook up a few times. Maybe one night we’ll be hungry, so we’ll run out to get dinner. We’ll inadvertently get to know each other, which will make us start caring about each other. We’ll look forward to the next time we see each other again, and then we’ll start having romantic thoughts.”
He could argue his point all he wanted, but I knew I was right. I’d been down that road before. Besides, I was already in love.
With my job.
He scoffed. “I don’t want to get to know you. I don’t even know your last name. I’ll never ask, I promise. And I won’t tell you mine.”
I stared at him. He really wanted me, and I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be desired again. But still. I didn’t have time for a relationship. That was why I hooked up with him in the first place.
“Why?” I asked. “You don’t need me. There are millions of girls out there who’d kill to be your little sex toy.”
One look into his eyes coupled with the things I knew he could do to me physically, meant I could very easily fall in love with him if I wasn’t careful, and that was exactly why I had to nip it in the bud.
“I’ve met a lot of Nikkis,” he said. “Nikkis are all bat-shit crazy. Sexy as fuck, but crazy. I’ve met Ashleys, Jennas, Tiffanys. Even a few Chloes. They’re all the same. Pretty, yet shallow. Every single one of them. But I’ve never met an Addison. You’re different, and you intrigue me.”
“We could have the best intentions, Wilder, but we can’t control the uncontrollable.” I placed my hand on the doorknob. I breathed him in one last time. “If you’ll excuse me, five a.m. comes early.”
* * *
I skipped my run that next morning. I never did that. I’d had the best sleep of my entire life, courtesy of an earth-shattering orgasm. I was out like a rock.
“Shit.” I popped out of bed, realizing my alarm had never gone off. If it had, I must have turned it off in my sleep. The sun was already out, which meant it was well past seven and I had less than an hour to put myself together and make it downtown to my office.
I took a quick shower and slipped into a navy pencil skirt with matching heels and a cream blouse, reminiscent of the one I’d worn to see Wilder the night before.
An hour later, I was running off the elevator toward my office.
“You okay?” My assistant, Skylar, watched me with big, brown eyes. “You’re, like, never late.”
She was right. I was never late. And the day I hired her, I told her that being ten minutes early to work was still considered late in my book. I’d written her up for being five minutes late before, but now I was going to have to cut her a little slack.
“Brenda wants to have a meeting with you and Kyle,” she said.
“When?”
“Now.” She pointed to the conference room where the door was slightly ajar.
I collected my thoughts and headed in. Impromptu meetings between myself, my boss, Brenda, and my arch nemesis and biggest competitor, Kyle, were never a good thing. Kyle and I had dated for a couple years, but we’d always kept it under wraps. Brenda would have freaked out if she knew and demanded that one of us quit.
It couldn’t be about that, could it?
I wasn’t about to quit, though, and definitely not because I was all love-swept over that nitwit for two years of my life. I was having the best year ever, about to clear a couple of record breaking commissions, which would put me in the top 1% of real estate brokers in all of Manhattan. In a city with over thirty-thousand agents, Kyle and I were both in the top 1%, and Brenda Bliss of Bliss Agency was our boss.
We’d been under her umbrella for a few years, doing all the hard work and schmoozing and selling while she sat back in her expansive corner office and plastered her name on all the signs and billboards and accepted all the awards.