London Falling (Falling #2)(8)
“I’m sorry?” I answered confused.
“You’re the Brit we met at the Maxwell reveal last week, right? The one who had his tongue down my girl’s throat if I remember correctly?” His tone was filled with mirth but it jangled my nerves, making me feel the need to explain.
“Tripp, she made it clear that the two of you were not a couple, mate. I’m sorry if I misunderstood.” The pencil I was holding was neatly broken in half.
Did she lie to me? Why would she lead me on if she was in a relationship? Perhaps she wanted to make him jealous?
A full-bellied laugh came across the phone line. “We’re not a couple.” His voice still contained hints of humor which had my ire building. “London doesn’t do the couple thing, Mr. Bond.”
“It’s Collier, Tripp. What do you mean; London doesn’t do the couple thing?”
“It means, she is not in a relationship, nor does she do relationships. She prefers to stay unattached.”
“I see. When will she be home?” I didn’t really see what he meant. Far from it, actually. The little bits I picked up about Ms. Kelley only gave me introspection on how complex the woman was.
“Don’t know. You’ve reached her home and office. However, when she’s staying with a client I’m not sure when she’ll be home. If you’d like to give me your number, I can get her a message.”
I rattled off my phone number and rang off with Tripp. Such an odd duck, that one. If she’s not home, why was he answering her phone? Did he live with her? Everything about this woman was a mystery, one I was becoming more and more determined to solve.
***
“Sweetheart, I know you’re hurting.” His eyes held a longing that would not be fulfilled.
“James, I just… this is so unfair. There hasn’t been enough time…”
“London, you have to be strong. I know you can. You’re going to be fine. And one day, you will see our time together as a beautiful memory.”
“No. I’ll never get over you.”
His eyes smiled until it reached his lips. “Sweetie Pie, it’s not fair to hold your love away from another. I don’t want that for you.”
“It’s true; you’ve ruined me for all others. I wish…”
“Shhhh, London, don’t waste wishes that were not meant to come true. Someday, you will be loved.”
“London, are you hungry?” Dylan’s voice cut through my daydream.
My newest client was the perfect gentleman and host. And as Tripp expected, boring. Investment banking did not provide much excitement in his life. He lived a sheltered, mundane lifestyle. His world had little entertainment.
I smiled to myself. This was going to be so much fun. The man needed excitement in his life and I was just the right woman to give it to him. He had no idea what he was in for but he’d love every minute of it, once I got past his reserved nature.
“I asked if you were hungry.” Dylan smiled wide when he found me sitting on the bed in his guestroom.
“Sorry, you caught me daydreaming. Yes, famished. What did you have in mind?” I stood up and took one last glance at the journal I’d been reading when the memory overcame me. No more thoughts of James today. Time to have a little fun.
“Oh, I’m open. You’re the guest.” His gaze skimmed my body so quickly I almost didn’t notice it. His breathing became labored. Every so often he’d take a deep breath. Desire filled the room like a hazy smoke around him. He wanted me. It was a heady feeling knowing a man wanted to mate with you.
I tilted my head to the side and gauged his vibe. Telltale waves of his desire prickled the hair on the back of my neck. Oh, it was going to be fun getting him to loosen up. Besides, best way to get over a man was to get under another. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. When I was with a man, feeling his pleasure, receiving my own…I wasn’t alone anymore.
“What if I told you that I was hungry, but not for food?” My hands found their way to the tie at my neck holding up my halter dress. I pulled the string and let the fabric fall, exposing my bare breasts. I slid my hands over each globe massaging and tweaking the nipples to elongate and darken them. His eyes filled with heat and need.
He groaned. “Uh, uh, shit!”
The inability to form actual words versus caveman-speak was a good sign. He was interested. And I deserved a little slice of relief and distraction. The man wasn’t gorgeous but he was very good looking. Tall, handsome and he had a great big heart. I’d enjoy his body, help him find his way, fix his disastrous home and be gone in four weeks.
His green eyes sparkled when I shimmied out of my dress, leaving only a wisp of lace covering my lady parts. “How about this? Let’s satisfy one hunger and then I’ll let you buy me a fat bowl of pasta! Whaddya say?”
His head moved up and down as he licked his lips. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Well, believe it buddy. It’s time you had some fun.” I climbed on the bed and lay down. “Come here big guy; show me what you’ve got.”
After we’d sated one hunger, he took me to a little hole in the wall, mom and pop Italian restaurant. The food was served ’family style’ which I appreciated, not ever having family style dinners at the Bright-Reynolds home. Mom and Dad were not the type to sit around a table and share a meal. They had servers and perfectly polite dinner conversations each night as if it was pre-planned and read from ’The Guide to High Society Eating.’