I felt like I was going on a first date. I glanced at the clock almost as many times as I changed my outfit Thursday evening. The thing was . . . it wasn’t a date. It was a business meeting. With a guy I’d already flat-out declined an invitation for sex from. A guy I couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to have sex with. What exactly was the right wardrobe for such an event?
Giving in to my wild hair, I left it down, unruly curls tumbling halfway down my back. I ransacked my closet, searching for something that was business-smart, yet attractive without being overtly sexy. Settling for a black pencil skirt and a red form-fitting button-up shirt, I added a few chunky bracelets, slipped on a pair of strappy sandals that wrapped around my ankles and took one last look in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. The weather was still warm enough for bare legs, and the high heel of my open shoe extended my already long legs, making them look even longer. I liked what I saw. Who knew I could pull off smart with a touch of sexy? Now if only I could pull off pretending I wasn’t attracted to the arrogant ass.
Right at five, I lifted my hand to knock on the penthouse suite, and the door swung open, leaving my knuckles rapping on air. A beautiful young brunette greeted me wearing a very cropped shirt and second-skin leggings. Half of her tiny waist was on display, and her voice was cheerleaderish peppy. “Hey,” she yelled over her shoulder, bouncing on her heels, “your appointment is here, Brody. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Still smiling, she stepped aside for me to enter and left me with, “I wore him out pretty good, hope it doesn’t mess up whatever you plan to do with him.”
Confused, I hesitated just inside the door as it closed behind me. Brody walked into the room, looking freshly showered in low-hanging sweats and no shirt. His hair was wet and slicked back. Damn.
“Hey.” His eyes made a slow sweep of my body, and he stopped in his tracks a few feet away from me. “Wow. You look—”
My body grew warmer from the heat in his eyes. He unabashedly took his time before lifting his eyes to meet mine. “So, how does this work? Friends can’t tell friends how they look?”
“Of course they can. Friends can give compliments.”
His eyes gleamed. “Good. You look good enough to eat.”
God, it really has been too long. My body tightened, and I had to swallow my breath to keep a small gasp from slipping out. Pink rose on my cheeks at the picture he’d just planted in my brain. I could visualize myself looking down at those broad shoulders as he ate me. Somehow I knew it wouldn’t be slow and tender licking and sucking. No, this man would devour me whole.
“I didn’t hear you come in. I needed a quick shower after Brittany. That woman might be small, but she’s demanding as shit. Worked me over good today.”
Abruptly, the switch flipped off. Nothing like talking about his sexcapades with another woman to cool off my raging libido. “Wonderful. I’m glad you’ve taken care of your needs. Perhaps we can skip the games and go straight to work this evening, then?” My tone came out a bit snide.
Brody’s eyebrows knitted. He walked toward me, not stopping until he was invading my personal space. I was still just inside the suite, and the door was only a foot or two behind me. The urge to take a step or two back was great, but I held my ground.
“No games. There’s nothing more I’d like to do than take you up against that door right now. And the fact that you just got jealous of Brittany, my physical therapist, proves that I’m not off-base. You want me inside of you as much as I want to bury myself. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself . . . ” He craned his neck down so we were nose to nose. “Yet. But you will.”
I swallowed. For a change, I was at a loss for words. Eventually, he groaned and took a step back. Running a hand raggedly through his hair, he said, “We need to do this somewhere else. I don’t trust myself in this hotel suite alone with you.”
I thought he was joking, but a few minutes later he came out dressed with a baseball cap and sweatshirt on.
“Where are we going?”
“Someplace where I can’t try to take advantage of you.”
Rather than have the valet get his car, he opted for a cab. “Amsterdam and 112th Street, please.”
“Morningside Heights? That’s where you can’t take advantage of me?”
“Yep.”
***
My eyes were glued to the vividly painted ceiling as we walked inside. “This place is incredible. I’ve passed it a hundred times before, but never come inside.”
Brody and I walked through St. John the Divine. He steered me down a long aisle on the left side of the church and waved to two priests sitting in a row, talking. At the end of the aisle, he opened a door and ushered me in first.
“Where are we going?”
“To the roof.”
“The roof?”
“Yeah. I come here sometimes. A friend of mine used to work here. He had a pigeon coop on the roof. When I was a kid, I would stop in and hang out with him all the time. It’s quiet. Most people go to the top of the Empire State Building or Top of the Rock to get a view. You can see the city just as good from upstairs.”
“And you’re allowed up there?”
“Nah. You might get arrested. I’ll be able to run when the cops come, but you’re going to be slow as crap in those sexy shoes.”