Did we fuck there last night too?
She retrieves a white phone, inspecting it like there’s a chance it belongs to a former conquest.
“Ugh. Battery’s dead.” She stuffs it in her clutch and snaps the little bag shut.
Guess there’ll be no exchanging of numbers.
Woe is me.
Our eyes lock, and Odessa tugs the hem of her dress into place though it’s barely long enough to hit the middle of her long thighs.
“All right, then.” She walks past me, grazing my shoulder, and heads for the elevator, hips swaying with the subtle bounces in her steps. Her fingertips reach back, smoothing loose auburn tendrils that have fallen around her nape.
My eyes trace down her back until it finds the dip just above her perfect ass and those hips I’d held onto all night.
I don’t do repeats. I don’t do booty calls or the whole fuck-buddy thing. I’m a one and done kind of man, but damn, if this sexy little spitfire doesn’t make me want a reprise.
Odessa presses the call button on the elevator and the doors part. She steps inside, our eyes meeting one last time.
This is it.
Once those doors close, I’ll never see her again.
Which is exactly the way it’s supposed to be…
I suck in a quick breath. “Wait.”
I never chase after women. I send them packing with a post-orgasmic glow and sometimes an awkward, morning-after hug. The second they close I’m never going to see this woman again. Any other time I’d be perfectly okay with that. But I can’t let her walk out of my place lugging every ounce of power from this entire exchange.
It’s not the way it’s supposed to go, and I can’t allow it.
Her brows arch, and the right corner of her fuckable pink lips pull up. I can’t let her leave with the upper hand. I can’t be left in the dust like some pathetic pity fuck.
The doors ding and slide, but I stop them, climbing onto the elevator next to her.
“What are you doing?” She backs herself into a corner, literally.
The only way to reset the power balance is to get her to want me. I need her to leave this place thinking she’d just had the best sex of her entire life, and I want her to silently plead for more with those glossy emerald eyes of hers.
And after that?
I want her calling me every night for a week, begging to come over if only so I get the satisfaction of telling her “no.”
I reach for her, sliding my palm against her jaw and cupping my fingers around her soft neck before lowering my mouth to hers. Without saying a word, I steal a tender kiss. My free hand hooks the curve above her hip, and her body melts against me for the few, short seconds my mouth claims hers.
That’s how it’s done.
Kiss them until they’re weak in the knees.
I pull away like some sensual Casanova and cock a satisfied smile.
Her wild green eyes soften for a millisecond before her brows twist.
“Why did you do that?” she asks.
I step back, two steps actually, and run the side of my finger against the warmth of my lower lip. Her spearmint taste settles on my tongue.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, Odessa.” I step off the elevator, wicked gratification sinking into my bones, and send her off with a signature ambiguous nod.
Only the last thing I see in the moments before the door slams shut is her middle finger pointed straight up.
I slam the call button over and over. I need the elevator to stop now, but the clunk-clunk and whoosh tells me it’s too late.
I scramble to my room, tugging on last night’s slacks and pulling a white button-down over my tight shoulders as I make a mad dash for the emergency stairway. I’m not sure if I can beat her to the ground level, but I’m sure as hell going to try.
Two steps at a time, the whole way down. Ten flights. I’m glazed in a coat of sweat by the time I get to the bottom and my shirt clings, but I catch the backside view of her as she slips past the doorman and heads west down twenty-sixth street.
“Odessa.” I call out the second I hit the pavement behind her. She stops dead but doesn’t turn around until I get closer.
Her arms fold. “Seriously?”
“What the hell was that?” This is not my finest hour, but this woman brings out insecurities I never knew I had.
“The kiss.” Her head tilts. “It was rude. I didn’t want it.”
It’s still early enough that the streets haven’t filled with Friday morning commuters.
“You’re a piece of work.” My gaze narrows. I refuse to release her from my stare. “I can’t thank you... I can’t kiss you...Women like you are the reason I don’t date.”
Well, one of the many, many, many reasons.
“Give it a rest. God, what’s your problem?”