Between The Sheets. P.J. Mellor
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women.
Then again, maybe he was an idiot, doomed to repeat past mistakes. After all, he’d never been the casual-sex, love-’em-and-leave-’em type of guy. It would make sense, in a perverse sort of way, that he’d read more into the encounter with his sexy Realtor than truly existed. Pathetic. That was him, lonely and pathetic—despite being touted as one of Houston’s most eligible bachelors last year.
Change occurs only when the subject is open and conducive to it. A leopard may not be able to change its spots, but he could change the behavior that caused heartache by remaining detached. After all, sex was a physical response to stimuli. It was only natural for his response to be in direct correlation to Andrea’s sexual aggression.
Still pathetic, but natural.
Appetite gone, he stripped on his way into the bathroom and stepped into the stinging hot shower, closing his eyes, willing images of Andrea’s perfect, naked body from his mind.
His soapy hand slid to his more-than-semierect penis. Damn, he wished Andrea was here, wished it was her hand caressing him, stroking his balls.
His hips bucked at the thought, his erection jerking to attention.
He couldn’t remember ever feeling the way he’d felt that afternoon. No woman had ever had the immediate effect on him that Andrea Redd had. Ever. The effect she obviously still had.
His breath hitched while his heart threatened to break out of his chest.
Just sex, just sex, just sex…
His climax came fast and hard, leaving his knees weak. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor of the huge shower. A shower obviously built with more than one occupant in mind. And he couldn’t help but envision Andrea beside him, stroking him. Kissing him. Loving him.
Which was totally ridiculous. They’d had sex. End of story. Now it was his decision as to whether he continued looking at beach houses with her or switched Realtors. Or cut his losses and left the island entirely.
Regardless, one fact remained.
He was still alone.
Despite having world-class sex just a few hours earlier. Despite being pretty sure Andrea wouldn’t be opposed to a replay. Or several repeat performances. Despite having just taken the edge off via masturbation.
He was not only alone, but he was also lonely.
9
Andrea willed away her tequila headache and glanced at her cell as she walked into the elevator of her office parking garage the next morning. No messages.
Like a fool, she’d slept with the damn phone on her nightstand, just in case. In case Connor O’Brian called. What was her problem? Was she reverting to junior high behavior?
It was stupid and asinine to mope around. She was a mover and a shaker. She didn’t have time for…well, for relationships. Not that what she and Connor had shared was a relationship. Not that she’d want it to be. No, sir.
But the fact that she hadn’t heard one word from him gave her pause. Had she just been a convenience? Had what they shared been merely a way for Connor O’Brian to get his jollies, relieve a little pressure?
She didn’t want to believe it. She knew when a man was interested, and Connor O’Brian had been interested. More than interested.
The alternative was too humiliating to contemplate.
On the bright side, she noted, checking messages and e-mails at her desk, he hadn’t canceled their morning appointment.
“Lisa.” She leaned toward the edge of her desk, scanning her schedule. “Lisa!”
“I said what!” Lisa skidded to a stop just inside the door. “Must you yell like that?” She rubbed her furrowed brow. “One of us has the hangover from hell.”
“I warned you about the Jello shots.”
“Hey, they were free, since the bridal shower had canceled. No point in letting them go to waste. Anyway, you bellowed?”
“Yes. Did you put in the call for the limo for my morning appointment?” Thoughts of what she and Connor could do in the relative privacy of the back of the stretch limo owned by Redd Hot Properties had her all but squirming on the seat of the padded leather desk chair. Of course, it was only a fantasy. She knew better.
She hoped.
“IOI. Called after I got home last night. The driver will be here by nine.” Lisa rubbed her forehead again. “If you don’t need anything else, is it okay if I go home after you leave? I can switch the calls to my place.”
“Hmm? Oh, sure. I just have the one client. Depending on how the showing goes, I may or may not make it back into the office today.” Andrea stood and smoothed her black pencil skirt. She reached for the matching jacket, hanging on the visitor’s chair. “If you don’t want to be disturbed, just roll the phone over to the service and take the day off.”
“OMG! You’re not making a BFD about me leaving. You’re planning something.” Her eyes narrowed. “Spill.”
“Words, Lisa, use words, please.” Andrea paused by the brushed stainless framed mirror and checked her lip gloss. “And the only thing I’m planning is showing Mr. O’Brian some beach property in the hopes of finally getting him to commit to one.”
She walked into the bathroom adjoining her office, discreetly closing the door.
“Maybe he’ll commit to something else, something more, ah, personal!” Lisa’s voice carried through the door.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Andrea paused, then stepped out of her thong and stuffed it in her purse.
It had nothing to do with emotions. It had nothing to do with sex, even. She was determined to make a sale.
She had no intentions of having sex again in an attempt to sell a house. But she wasn’t adverse to a little sexual teasing to get Connor’s attention.
Hell, maybe if he thought they’d do it again, he’d be speedier about making a decision on a beach house.
And once he’d signed on the dotted line…Well, she wasn’t adverse to letting nature take its course.
Assuming his funding was in order, of course.
10
Connor shifted from one sandaled foot to the other, squinting in the sunshine while he waited. Andrea Redd’s assistant had called earlier to tell him a Redd Hot Property limousine would be picking him up for today’s excursion. He wondered if Andrea would be in the limo or if she’d chicken out and turn him over to another Realtor.
He also wondered how he’d feel about that.
The sleek limo, its navy paint sparkling in the morning sun, glided to the curb. REDD HOT PROPERTIES INC. was discreetly lettered in silver paint on the door.
Connor bit back a grin when a man no older than twenty hopped from the driver’s side and scurried around to open the rear passenger door. The driver wore a purple and green tropical-print shirt, baggy cargo shorts not dissimilar to Connor’s own, and purple rubber flip-flops.
“Good morning, Mr. O’Brian?”
Connor nodded as he sauntered to the curb.
“I’m Cody. I’ll be your driver today. Ms. Redd is already in the car.”
“Great.” He returned Cody’s smile. “Let’s rock and roll, Cody.”
The cool interior and the smell of Andrea’s perfume wrapped around him the second he stepped into the car. Although only twinkling lights lit the perimeter of the seating area, he saw her immediately.
And, even though he’d sworn today’s outing would be strictly business, he wanted her.
Not