Between The Sheets. P.J. Mellor
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erection, get dressed, and continue the showing? Did she act as though they hadn’t just shared mind-blowing sex? What exactly was the protocol? She stifled a laugh when she thought she could probably ask her lying scumbag ex-husband how he’d handled these types of situations.
She knew what she should probably do: turn Connor O’Brian over to one of her capable agents. But she also knew what she really wanted to do: slide right back into the spa and beg for more, which was totally ridiculous.
Andrea Redd never begged for anything. Or anyone.
Her back stiffened. “What was that? Did you hear something?”
Connor paused mid-nuzzling of her neck. “I’m not sure.”
They didn’t have to wait long. The chiming doorbell echoed in the empty house, its sound drifting out through the open patio doors.
“Oh, no!” Andrea scrambled off Connor’s lap, all but leaping from the spa and skidding across the wet decking to grab her clothes.
He leaned against the spa, arms stretched along the tile, enjoying the view while he waited for his brain cells to reengage. Dang, the woman had a hot body. His cock twitched with renewed interest when she bent to pull her thong up over her wet legs. He wanted to say something, to tell her how special it had been or at least how great she was, but all he could manage to say was, “Don’t bother putting them back on, darlin’, ’cause I’ll just take them off again as soon as I get my second wind.”
A sarcastic comeback he could have taken. An incredulous laugh he could have taken. He could have even taken casual indifference.
But when she looked at him like he was something that just crawled out from under a rock, he found he couldn’t take it.
“Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t enjoy what just happened,” he warned, rising from the churning water and reaching for his shorts. “‘Cause I’d just have to come over there and make a liar out of you.”
He was right, of course, Andrea thought as a little thrill streaked through her at the prospect of exactly how he would accomplish such a task.
The doorbell chimed again, dousing any remaining embers of passion she may have been inclined to stoke.
Whoever was at the door was obviously not going away. Her car was in the driveway; they knew she was inside.
“For God’s sake, Junior, get out of the damn spa and get dressed! Someone’s at the door!”
Her train of thought was temporarily derailed as she watched him step into his shorts. If it wasn’t for the very real possibility of being caught, she could think of several other ways to slake her lust with his willing young body.
He straightened and looked at her as though he could read her lecherous thoughts. “Now what?”
She straightened her suit and stepped into her shoes, taking a quick glance around the pool area to make sure they hadn’t left any evidence of their tryst.
“Now we go back into the house and I answer the door.” Thank goodness she hadn’t replaced the key in the lockbox. If it was another Realtor at the door—which, in all probability, it was—they would have stumbled onto her and Connor’s private sex show, quite possibly ruining her business.
“Should we turn off the spa?”
Shaking her head, she turned to take one last look before leaving the patio and winced. “No, but please dispose of the condom floating around in the middle.”
Striding to the front door, she swallowed a groan. Even through the beveled glass, she easily recognized her rat-fink ex-husband.
Plastering on a smile that was more baring of teeth than a statement of pleasure, she swung open the door. “Rich! Fancy meeting you here. Unfortunately, I’m showing the property—”
“So that’s why you didn’t replace the key in the lockbox, huh?” Her ex swept past her, an older couple in his wake. “Please,” he told the couple, “feel free to roam around, get a feel for the place. After all, if you act fast, it could be your new home!” He stepped close to Andrea and lowered his voice. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You have no right to hold the key, preventing me or anyone else from showing the property. I know you’re probably desperate to make a sale, but this is low, even for you.” He stopped and gave her a once-over. “How did you get all wet?”
“It was an oversight; I simply forgot to replace the key.” Jaw clenched, she ignored his question about her suit while she looked over his shoulder for Connor. “If you’d kindly take your clients and wait on the patio for a few minutes, we’ll be out of your way.”
“No way. I know you. You’re going to put pressure on your client to make an offer, which you will then run to the seller with before I can get anything in writing.” He narrowed already-beady eyes. “You always were a conniving bitch—”
“Excuse me?” A familiar voice came from behind Rich. Andrea held her breath, hoping her ex didn’t put two and two together when he saw the dampness clinging to Connor. Rich always had a sixth sense for sex. It was like he could smell it.
Rich turned. “Yeah? What?”
“I think you owe the lady an apology.”
“Bullshit! I don’t owe that cunt anything except a long hard—”
Connor’s fist connected squarely with Rich’s face, knocking him flat.
“Ow.” Connor shook his hand, hopping from one foot to the other. “I had no idea it would hurt me, too.”
“Good job, Junior. C’mon, let’s get out of here before he wakes up.”
Andrea concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, then on fastening her seat belt and putting the car in gear.
It wasn’t until she’d dropped Connor at his hotel and called Lisa to meet her for drinks that she allowed a smile to creep out as her mind replayed Connor knocking out Rich. Damn, she’d never had her very own knight in shining armor.
She liked it.
7
“A party spa,” Andrea said an hour later as she took a sip of her margarita and leaned back in the pedicure chair. She looked over at Lisa. “Leave it to you to find something like this.”
Lisa’s nose wrinkled with her impish smile. “Isn’t it TDF?”
“TDF?”
That earned an eye-roll. “Duh. To. Die. For.”
“Nothing is worth dying for. Not even a spa that serves margaritas.”
“You take things too seriously. Loosen up.”
“You’d be amazed at how loose I’ve become of late.” The thought of her loose activities that afternoon with Connor had her struggling to keep from squirming in the big chair. She took a long swallow of her margarita and must have breathed in because she choked.
“Drea, are you okay?” Lisa put down her own drink and reached over to thump her friend’s back.
Andrea drew in a breath between gagging and coughing. “Yes,” she sputtered, “just went down the wrong way.”
After they’d settled back with their drinks, Lisa grinned over at her. “Okay, I’ll bite. Exactly how loose have you been lately? What? Did you forget to enter something into your to-do list? I know! You didn’t pick up your dry cleaning.” She chuckled. “You rebel, you.”
“Ah, no.” Andrea waited until the manicurist finished laying the hot stones on her legs, covered them with a towel, and walked away before she answered. “Not even close,” she whispered, then leaned a little closer. “I had sex.”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “No offense, but I think you’ve done that a few times