Free The Gentleman Has Left the Building by Lucy V. Morgan Page A

end.
    “Don’t feign
ignorance. It won’t wash with me, missy. I saw you.” My turn to
prod her. “How long have you been flirting with Sir Cockhead of
Brooding?”
    “It’s not
flirting.” She shrugged.
    “Oh? Is there a
different word for it in Brooding? Is it being a pair of sickening
asshats?”
    She grinned at
me over her bowl. “Seriously, it's not flirting. It’s…a game.”
    “Do not pass
go, do not collect two hundred spanks?” I teased.
    The colour
drained from her face. “Oh God. Did you actually see him spank
me?”
    “No.” I
laughed. “But he really did that in the office? Fucking hell, I’ve
got to shake his hand.” Pasta coiled on my fork. “After he’s washed
it, anyway.”
    “It’s all part
of it though, Rhys. Like unwritten rules. He chases me like that
and I keep saying no, but we both know that I like it.”
    I tapped my
plate. “Let me get this straight. He’s sexually harassing you, and
you like it?”
    “When you put
it like that, it sounds kind of creepy.” She pouted at me. “Trust
you to suck all the fun out of everything.”
    “But what’s in
it for him?”
    She sat back on
our brown leather sofa and gazed up at me, twirling blond hair
around her finger. “I don’t know, actually. I guess…he likes
pretending to coerce me. Likes the thrill of it.”
    “He thinks
you’re going to crack. That’s why he’s pursuing you. In the
meantime, he’s just getting off on harassing you, which is…” I
cleared my throat. “Admirably honest.”
    “I want to
crack. Of course I do. But this is nice, Rhys. You know the little
thrills you get from having a crush on somebody? I get them all the
time, and they’re kind of half consummated with the way he plays
with me.” She smiled, bit her lip; tempted, wistful. “It’s a
perfect balance.”
    “Only a woman
would refer to a sexless relationship as perfect,” I mumbled.
    “You don’t get
it. It’s not sexless. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever done.”
Another smile, triumphant now in that way only women are capable
of. “And maybe I will crack, eventually. When the time’s right. I
mean…otherwise one of us will get bored and it’ll all just go to
waste, huh? But until then, while it’s still…swelling…I’m holding
on.”
    “Until he gets
blue balls.” I grinned. “Evil Harpie.”
    “Anyway, enough
about me. Who have you been lusting over this week?”
    “Caroline’s
tits were exceptionally perky today,” I said slowly.
    “They’re always
perky.” She rolled her eyes. “Stop avoiding my question.”
    “Okay, okay.
Well. There is one girl.”
    Actually, there
had been “a girl” for several weeks, but you can’t mention these
things until you’ve put the feelers out. My feelers went out last
Thursday and they hadn’t come back yet…I'm guessing they found an
abandoned KFC bucket and were probably lying face down in their own
vomit.
    “Who?” Harper
squeaked, suddenly alight with intrigue. “Does she work with
us?”
    “Nope.”
    “Does she go to
our gym?”
    “Still no.” I
smiled. “In truth…there’s not a lot to tell yet, okay? Give me a
few days and I’ll talk.”
    “ You’ll get blue balls,” she grumbled.
    “Will you suck
them, if I do?”
    Harper launched
a cushion at me. “Bleugh. No!”
     
    ****
     
    There’s only
one reason why I know what seven AM on a Saturday looks like, and
that’s this one girl. Well. That and Aidan, my mate from
kickboxing; if I don’t join him for a run in the local park three
times a week then he threatens to turn up at my office and do one
of his Broadway dance routines. I wouldn’t put it past the sly
ginger bastard.
    “You’re late.”
He snorted at me in disgust.
    "You're wearing
a hairband," I shot back.
    He pushed the
thick blue bland back into his curly red hair, and wiggled his
eyebrows. "Have to protect the 'fro. Also, you're late ."
    “I’m not late.
I’m…arriving later than normal.” I bent to tighten my laces and