“After how smooth I was at dinner? The perfectly cooked food, the elegant ambience…” I scoffed. “How could you not be chomping at the bit to see me again.”
Belle laughed, and I savored the sound, soaking it up like a ray of sunshine. When I glanced at Gerald, he was watching me with a knowing grin, and I flicked him off when he made a lewd gesture with big doe eyes, his lashes batting over and over.
“So, you want to see me again?”
“I do,” I said confidently.
“Why don’t you come by the office tomorrow and I can show you where I want to start with the condo?”
“I can do that,” I said confidently. “But I want to see you outside of work, too.”
There was a pause on the other end, and I closed my eyes, imagining that sexy, confident smile Belle wore so easily.
Okay, and maybe her ass in yoga pants, too.
“What did you have in mind?”
I smiled. “Would you say you’re a competitive person, Ms. Monroe?”
Belle scoffed. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
“Good. I’ll come into the office tomorrow and get your address while I’m there. Save Wednesday night for me. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I like when you’re bossy.”
I rolled my lips together, shaking my head because I could see the devilish look in her eyes even when she was out of sight. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she echoed.
Then, I hung up the phone and finished out the rest of our training session with a doofus smile firmly in place.
Belle
“Just a minute!” I called when I heard the knock at my door. I already knew it was Makoa, since I’d buzzed him up from the downstairs lobby, but my stomach still did a little flip when the knock came.
And I instantly kicked myself for having that reaction.
I was too damn excited to see this guy. I mean, usually, I’d be so lackadaisical about the whole situation that I’d have Makoa driven mad by this point. But as it was, he was the one driving me insane.
Him making me wait was not something I was used to.
And for some reason, it really, really turned me on.
I checked my makeup one last time, dabbing at the corner of my mouth where a little gloss had gone rogue. Makoa had told me to dress casual, but I didn’t really do casual. My wardrobe mostly consisted of tailored pant and skirt suits, chic business fashion, and designer high heels. When I wasn’t in the office, I lived in athleisure or bohemian-style dresses. I wasn’t even sure I owned a pair of jeans or a t-shirt — I always went to Gemma when I needed to borrow that style.
Tonight, I’d landed on a soft, baby blue romper with a deep V cut. It was loose and flowy, which was casual to me, and paired with my favorite wedges, the outfit accented my long legs and narrow waist. I’d just dyed my hair an even darker red over the weekend, landing me in the auburn family, and I wore it in large barrel waves that spiraled over my shoulders. It was so big and teased that it was practically begging to have a hand tangled in it.
I hoped by the end of the night, it would.
Ever since I left his place Friday night, I’d been thinking about Makoa. Sure, I’d worked, and worked out, and hung out with Gemma, and gone out with the girls for happy hour. And sure, he’d stopped by the office Monday long enough to hear my initial plans for his condo and get my address. But that interaction had been short and professional, and if anything, it’d only left me wanting more.
The majority of my thoughts since then had centered around the way it felt when Makoa almost kissed me, and the way his smile made my stomach dip, and the way I couldn’t wait to have his condo furnished and decorated so I could fuck him in every corner of it.
Another knock came, and I scurried over to the door, putting my confident smile in place before I swung it open.
And there he was, the Polynesian dream boat.
It was a Herculean feat to keep my tongue in my mouth as I took in every inch of him. Makoa wore a cream linen shirt that cut off just under his elbow and had an open neckline — just enough for me to see a little more of those tattoos he loved hiding so much. His tan skin was ablaze against the linen, and the dark distressed jeans he wore hugged him in all the best ways. He had a gold chain around his neck, one that gave off major power vibes, and just with one inhale I knew I’d never forget that man’s scent.
Earthy and warm, with a little spice and a whole lot of sex appeal.
His eyes hungrily devoured me in measure, and he let out a slow whistle when our gaze finally met. “I’m going to have to fight off every man in Chicago tonight.”
I flushed, more out of practice than actual embarrassment. “Let me grab my purse.”
I locked up behind us, and as soon as I was in the hallway with him, Makoa slipped his hand around my waist and pulled me into him from the side. His hand was the size of my ribcage, and when he tucked me into him like that, I felt like a baby kitten.
Maybe that’s why I practically purred when he pulled me in even closer, pressing his warm lips to my cheek.
How I wished for those lips to be everywhere else…
He released his grip after the kiss, much to my despair, and we made our way to the elevator. Once we were downstairs, I followed his lead, holding my purse and wondering why the teenage love-sick puppy dog thought of wanting him to hold my hand had crossed my mind.
“So, where are we going?” I asked. We walked past a
