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Overlooked(2)(138)

By:Lulu Pratt & Simone Sowood


Business is so far from my mind, I will probably start panting soon.

But that is definitely not why he is here.

He’s here, in my cramped office wreaking havoc on my libido, because he needs a loan. To fund a security firm of all things.

Many of the people in this town are scared shitless of this man and for good reason. His dangerous reputation precedes him. I don’t know a single person who wants to be on his bad side and here he is planning to provide “protection” services.

Finally, I clear my throat and lean forward as I clasp my hands in the center of my desk. This causes his intense gaze to shift to the cleavage bared by my button-up silk blouse. Heat rushes through me as he boldly stares, not bothering to look away once he is caught.

I try not to think about it as I clear my throat yet again. This time my words don’t get jammed inside.

“Mr. Wilcox, I appreciate your preparation for this meeting,” I say, shuffling through the business plan he presented upon entering my office.

He eyes me steadily, his intense stare making me stammer.

“You’re… um, very thorough,” I remark as my eyes skim the pages, wondering how long it had taken him to put this all together.

“Yes, Ms. Chambers. I’m very thorough. In every aspect of my life.” A wicked gleam lights his gaze and he smirks, finally looking away from my breasts and back up at me. Then he winks.

All the moisture in my mouth evaporates in an instant, leaving my jaw slack as I ponder the innuendo lacing his words.

Be professional, Grace, I chant to myself.

“However, you don’t seem like the type of man who exactly needs a business loan from a small credit union   like Citizens.” I state the obvious because the man is filthy rich.

The small-town rumor mill has me educated on the guy. I know he’s thirty-two and was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. And my brief interview about his financial history had revealed that he acquired a large inheritance when his parents passed. Needless to say, his pockets aren’t exactly empty.

He showed up on a brand new luxury motorcycle to prove it.

“One thing I learned in my time as a SEAL is that everything isn’t what it seems, Grace. Can I call you Grace?” he asks belatedly.

My mind is too muddled to care. A military man. Wetness pours from my core as I fold my legs again.

“Anyway,” he continues leaning toward me. “I retired a couple years ago and I’ve been managing my money on my own ever since. I don’t tend to trust banks. But people get suspicious when you start paying cash for everything. Which is why I need you. I need to open a line of credit to establish trust and further expand my brand.”

Very thorough indeed. I bet he learned that as a SEAL as well.

I am nodding before I even knew what is happening. The man just told me he retired at the age of thirty. I’m envious and awed simultaneously.

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Wilcox. Citizens Credit union   is devoted to providing our members with quality service and care. Just give me a couple of days and I’ll see what I can do,” I promise, plucking a business card from my desk.

When he grabs the card, his calloused fingers graze mine and a jolt of electricity shoots through me. If he’s affected in the same way, his gorgeous face doesn’t betray a thing.

As I stand, the stickiness in my panties reminds me of just how slippery things have gotten down south. I will definitely need to change my panties as soon as he vacates the premises.

“Do you have any more questions for me, Mr. Wilcox?” I ask in a voice I hope isn’t too shaky. The last thing I need is for him to know just how horny he’s made me during this meeting.

“Jameson,” he says, reestablishing our eye contact.

“I’m sorry?” My words are barely a whisper as I take in his attire. He’s wearing all black. The dress shirt is unbuttoned at the collar and fitted to showcase his powerful biceps. The slacks fall over his long legs, the hem brushing the tops of expensive leather shoes.

“I want you to call me Jameson. If we’re going to work together, we should be familiar. Wouldn’t you agree, Grace?”

He finally stands, a fresh whiff of his heady scent assaulting my senses all over again. I would honestly agree to anything he said at the moment.

I gulp and nod as he stands there, patiently awaiting my reply.

“Please let me walk you out, Jameson.”

As we reach the credit union  ’s front lobby, Jameson turns to me with a disarming smile, his perfect white teeth on display.

“I’ll be seeing you, Grace.”

Although I know it’s strictly business on his end, I still relish in what sounds like a sinful promise.