Free Sexy as Hell Box Set by Harlem Dae Page B

alone? His narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks made me think he did, and it was with quite a hefty dose of surprise that I realised I didn’t want him to end it.
    Not until the agreed time.
    Slapping on a grin, I flounced fully into the room.
    “Ready?” I asked.
    He shook his head, coming out of his daze, and stared at me as if it were the first time he’d seen me in his life. He frowned, blinked, then jolted, seeming to become fully aware of his surroundings. “Sorry, miles away.”
    “Everything all right?” I asked, going for the normal, breezy approach.
    “Um, yeah. I was just…” He lowered his hand to his lap and gave a barely there smile.
    I knew what he ‘was just’ doing all right. He was just thinking about what the hell he’d got himself into since he’d met me. He was just thinking about Julie, me and Carlos, although I wouldn’t be telling him that the man who was in charge of keeping an eye on his car had, in fact, been having a butt plug shoved up his arse while said car owner was staining his trousers with hopefully the best ejaculation he’d ever had. He’d find that out shortly.
    “Never mind,” he said, standing and putting on a smile as fake as mine.
    He walked around the desk and joined me, and without saying another word I opened the front door and went out into the cold of Eden Street. He followed and stood beside me, glancing up and down.
    “Uh, where’s Carlos?” he asked, looking worried.
    “He’ll be here in a minute, don’t get your pants in a wad. And they are in a wad, aren’t they? You know, taken off, bunched into a soggy ball, now sitting in your jeans pocket if that bulge is anything to go by.”
    “You’re disgusting,” he said, then chewed the inside of his cheek.
    Was he trying not to laugh?
    “Yeah, but you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” I cocked my head and raised my eyebrows.
    He stopped glancing about and looked at me. “How do you do that?”
    “Do what?” I asked, feigning innocence.
    “That. The job you do.”
    I shrugged. “It’s a job like any other. Why, how do you do yours?”
    “Point taken.”
    “Curiosity getting to you?” I asked, stamping my feet to ward off the chill that was already seeping through my boots and into my toes.
    “A bit.”
    “Thought it might. I mean, it’s difficult not to be intrigued, isn’t it?”
    He nodded, and we stood there for a few moments without speaking, the only sounds the faint swoosh of traffic and the incessant tapping of my boots on the cobbles.
    “Ah, here’s my beautiful Spanish friend, look.” I nodded to our left.
    The Porsche pulled up at the kerb and Carlos climbed out, taking just an extra second to unfurl his body from the sporty car. He wore jeans that sat low on his hips, but no top. He was just acres of muscle coated in flesh. Flesh that held some very distinct flogger marks.
    Victor’s mouth dropped open, and he appeared as if he had something to say but didn’t know how to say it.
    “There you go, no harm done,” Carlos said, straightening. “She’s all yours again.” He grinned and brushed past Victor, their arms touching, before he rapped smartly on the club door.
    “Come on then,” I said brightly, scooting around the front of the car to the passenger side. “Better be quick. Before someone tries to steal your midlife-crisis carriage.”
    “Don’t joke about it,” he said, giving me what he must have thought was a stern glare. “And who says I’m going through a midlife crisis?”
    “I do,” I said over the top of the car.
    “I’m bloody well not,” he said, dropping into the driver’s seat.
    I climbed in. “You bloody well are. Otherwise, why on earth are you driving something as obscenely pussy-pulling as this, and why do you pick up strange women in coffee shops?”
    “You said it,” he muttered, slamming his door and revving the engine to life.
    “I said what?”
    He stared at me through the darkness. “ Strange women. You. I picked you up.”
    No, I