Touched (The Untouched Trilogy #2)(25)

I needed an orgasm so desperately that I damn near jumped from my chair and demand he do just what we both wanted. But what would follow? I didn’t want to find out so responding to his offer was not the best of ideas.

“I’m surprised you didn’t come to me sooner with this. Certainly you know that whatever it is you think I’m doing to you comes second to a sound business decision.”

Oh *, I don’t think you’re doing it. I know you’re doing it.

His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket to see who was calling and answered. He held up a finger excusing himself as he stood and walked over to the window. I busied myself with some notes for The Writer as I waited. At the conclusion of his conversation he assumed the seat across from me.

“I’m afraid we’ll need to table our meeting until later this evening. Brooklyn’s set up a video conference that I need to be in on. I would like to tie this up before I leave tomorrow so if you can get the appropriate papers and background information to me I’ll review it with you tonight over dinner at my place.”

Huh?

“Let’s say 7’oclock.”

I opened my mouth to object but he turned and walked out of my office. Dinner at his place? I hardly think that’s necessary. Why couldn’t he and I have a video conference as well? Did we have to be face to face to tie this up? I considered several alternative options for a few moments but came up with nothing of which he would agree. Fuck it. I’d go. I’d get in and get out within thirty minutes or so.

I rushed home after work and started on my plan to repel all non-business tactics. Maybe I was overdoing it but the ends would justify the means. I’d planned it all. What I’d wear. What I’d say when he opened the door. Where I would suggest we sit. All of it. And I’d be damned if it didn’t all go out the f*cking window as soon as I saw him.

“Good evening, Aria. Come in,” he said, standing in the door way. His undiluted scent assaulted me as the air from the motion of the door sashayed its way to my nose.

“Hi.” I followed him inside. He was barefoot; wearing jeans and a snug black t-shirt that showcased his sculpted arms. He looked amazing. I, on the other hand, looked just the opposite. I had scrubbed my face clean of all makeup, thrown on some sweatpants and tossed my hair in a messy bun … all part of my plan to get-in and get-out … untouched.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” he offered.

“Yes, please,” I replied on instinct. Oh f*ck, that should’ve been a no. “On second thought, I’d better not.”

He spun around shocked by my change of mind. “It’s just wine Aria. It’s not as if I’m asking you to strip of your clothing and allow me to pour it over you and lick it off ... however, if that’s a scenario of which you have interest, I’m sure we can work something out. ”

“You bastard,” I knew he’d do this but I didn’t expect it as soon as I walked in f*cking door.

“What? I offered you something to drink; I hardly think that justifies name-calling.”

“If I were any other person you wouldn’t have said that,” I said.

“But you’re not just any other person.”

I looked into his intense green eyes and I knew I needed to run.

“I thought a drink would put you at ease. You’ve been wound pretty tight lately; I was merely attempting to help,” he said, shrugging it off.

He was his most charismatic in situations like this and the part of me that enjoyed the game we once played gave in. “Let’s forget it.”

“Consider it forgotten. So what about that drink? Shall I pour you a glass?” he asked.

“Sure why not?”

“Good,” he said, taking in my appearance. He smirked as he turned away.

Yeah, soak it all in *. This is all for you.

I grasped the strap of my carrier bag and pulled it over my head and reached for the wine he extended and took a sip. “I know you said you wanted to do this over dinner but I’m really tired so if we could just finish this up so that I can get home, that would be great,” I said. That was part of the plan; to tell him I was tired so we could move things along without any weirdness.

“Well, I’m really starved and I need to eat.”

Well, shit. That wasn’t part of the plan. I didn’t want to react to the double meaning of his words; experience had shown it was best to just ignore it. “Okay, well food it is. Let’s do it,” I said, turning toward the kitchen.

“Actually everything is set up in the dining room. Come,” he said, motioning for me to follow him. It would appear he had some strategies of his own. I followed him to the dining room, my bag clutched to my chest as I reconstructed my plan.

“May I?” he asked, taking my bag and extending a seat to me. I sipped the wine as he moved toward the head of the table, taking his seat.

“This is a really nice wine,” I said.

“I thought you would like it,” he replied as he studied my face. What was he looking at?

“I don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary so let’s see what you have for me,” he said.

You’ve already seen what I have for you. Stop it Aria. Focus.

“Well, you reviewed most of the material today,” I began.

As we started to eat, I completed the proposal; reiterating some of the critical components. “The other information you’ll need is outlined here,” I said, passing him the portfolio from my bag. He skimmed over it as he ate. I watched him. I couldn’t help it. He was such a magnificent specimen.