The VIP Room(96)

Derek became aware that he was wringing the trash bag into twisted little knots and quickly tossed it over to the door. He thoughts went back to Lauren as he remembered the act she had inspired only minutes before.

What was it about her that was driving him to distraction? She certainly was nothing like any woman he'd ever been attracted to before.

Derek sat upright. That was it! Lauren was nothing like any woman he'd ever known!

Not only was she physically unlike the women in his life, she had no idea about what he was worth. To her, he was a lawn guy, a blue-collar worker who owned a small business. Everything about her suddenly became more appealing.

He was already enthralled with the idea of making love with a woman who wouldn't disappear under him and who he wouldn't be afraid he'd crush with his weight. She had real curves in all the right places, and he couldn't wait to bury his face in her breasts. He'd slide his hands between her legs, feeling the softness of her fleshy thighs. He imagined licking the sweet juices that trickled down from her honey pot and driving his tongue into her depths. She'd wrap her legs around his head and f*ck his face while he squeezed those beautiful ass cheeks.

Fuck, little head, you don't let me think straight.

Derek forced himself to breathe and turn his thoughts away from his sex. After a couple of minutes, his cock relaxed and he got to work. He turned on the computer and began preparing an estimate for work on her property. As he was putting together his proposal, a plan for how to court Ms. Lauren Daniels popped in his head like the proverbial light bulb flash.

If she showed any interest in him, it wouldn't be for his money, it would be for him alone. He couldn't wait to test his theory, and he knew exactly how he would do it.





#




Lauren surveyed her living room with satisfaction. The boxes were gone, her books were aligned neatly on the bookshelves, and she'd managed to hang a few prints on the wall. Her new couch hadn't been delivered yet, but she had an oversized armchair and ottoman next to an end table that held her Tiffany lamp, so she had a comfortable setting for reading or listening to music.

She sat in the armchair now. The window shades were rolled down but until she had drapes that could be pulled to ensure privacy, she wore her sleep shirt around the house, although she was naked under the soft cotton. She had her feet propped up on the ottoman with her knees bent and the folds of her shirt fell between her legs. She idly let her fingers of her right hand brush her inner thigh as she thought about the upcoming week at work.

As much as she had enjoyed the week off, she looked forward to returning to the office and getting back to the projects she'd been working on. Her clients depended on her for budgeting, investing, and finding ways to save money by lowering their taxes and expenses. Much of it was routine, but she enjoyed researching investment opportunities.

She was good at it, too. Her clients were mighty pleased at the close of the last fiscal quarter when their assets were anywhere from twenty-five to fifty percent higher than the previous quarter--and that was across the board. Lauren earned herself a cubicle with a window, and she'd been there less than one year.

She could have a corner office in her father's firm, but she preferred to earn her position. Her plan was to make the money to open her own company in a few years. She wasn't in any hurry, but the sooner that happened, the sooner she'd be the one calling the shots, not her father, her mother, or her boss.

Her cell phone rang. Lauren didn't recognize the incoming number and was hesitant to answer. After closing on the house, her number was made available in the county's public records as a new homeowner, and she had been besieged by telemarketers selling everything from insurance to cable television. She wasn't going to answer, but her finger slid across the screen and she accidentally pushed "Answer" instead of "Ignore."

"Shit."

There was silence on the other end.

"Hello?" Lauren winced, hoping her expletive hadn't been audible to the caller.

"Hi, Ms. Daniels. It's Derek Holmes from Holmes Landscaping. I have a proposal ready for you with an estimate, and I was wondering if I could send it by email. That way I can attach photos of the plants and trees I have in mind."

"Oh. Sure." Lauren sat up in the chair and pulled her shirt over her knees, as if he could see through the phone.

"What's your email address?"

Lauren hesitated for a moment. "When are you sending that?"

"As soon as I get your address."

"Good. Then, I'll give my personal email, rather than business. That way, I can look at it right away. Tonight, I mean." Lauren rolled her eyes, silently cursing herself for sounding like a nitwit.

"Sure. My phone number is on the paperwork, so if you have any questions at all, call me. Tonight even."

Lauren lit up with the thought of lying in bed later, talking to Derek on the phone. Didn't matter that they'd be talking plants. She could pretend they were having phone sex.

She gave him her email address. "Are you sure about calling you tonight, though? I wouldn't want to bother you if you have plans for the evening."

"Nothing important. It's sent, by the way. If you're near your computer, you could open it up and we could go over it right now."

"Actually, I'm not. But, give me about an hour. That should be enough time for me to review everything. Do you want to call me back?"