Brodie
Brodie couldn’t concentrate on his boss’s words. He was wondering about Jess. He was thinking about the expression on her face when he’d reminded her that he was paying her charity a substantial sum of money. He hadn’t meant it like that. As if to remind her he’d paid for her presence here.
Brodie had to acknowledge the fact that as much as he had had a good reason to ask Jess to come here with him, he might have wanted her to come anyway. And this was not a situation where he would bring a lover, way too ambiguous. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
But then he assured himself – she was different. This was different. She was here as a pretence. He glanced out the window and as he registered what he was looking at, he suddenly became fully alert.And hard.
People were milling around the pool nearby. Partners and friends of the team. Jess stood apart from them a little bit. She was at the edge of the pool in a turquoise one-piece. It was a perfectly regular swimsuit, but it looked like the most provocative piece of clothing Brodie had ever seen on a woman.
Strapless, it cut across her perfectly shaped breasts and clung to every toned inch of her torso and waist. Cut high, it made her legs look longer. She was light golden as if she’d been in the sun and he immediately wanted to know with who
and as he watched she lifted her arms and pulled her wavy hair up into a top knot on her head.
She stepped down into the pool and executed a graceful breaststroke.
‘Brodie...’
The blood was roaring in Brodie’s head. And straight to his cock.
‘Brodie!’
His head jerked around. Gordon was looking at him. ‘Do you want to tell us about the plans for the charity house on Winthrop Street?’
No, he wanted to fuck Jess so hard that it would ease this ache of lust in his body.
Exerting a level of control he’d never had to call on before, Brodie put his papers on his lap to cover his wayward body, cleared his throat and said, ‘Of course. Obviously as there’s a sitting tenant, a charity called Safe Refuge, we have to allow them the requisite time to vacate, but once they do it promises to be one of the most exciting period renovations we’ve done in a long time...’
But even as he said that he was aware of the cognitive dissonance in his brain. Of the way this project had niggled at him from the moment it had landed on his desk. Of the way he was having doubts about his role within this company. But this was not the time or place to think about that.
His boss turned to someone else. ‘Malcolm, what about you?’
Brodie let out a breath as the focus went away from him and he studiously kept his gaze averted from the pool area outside for the rest of the meeting.
Chapter 21
Jess
Imet Brodie on my way back from the pool. He was coming down the main stairs dressed in dark trousers and a crisp white shirt. Hair damp. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think to go looking for you before going back to the room. I thought I’d use the shower before you came back.’
I felt flustered and unkempt in flat sandals and a long shirt over my swimsuit. ‘I fell asleep on a lounger.’ I felt like such a sloth. Normally I was busy at weekends, doing stuff with Tash or volunteering at community events. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had nothing at all to do.
‘It’s cool, you are meant to be relaxing,’ said Brodie. ‘I’ll see you on the terrace for drinks?’
I nodded and rushed back to the room. I had a glorious shower and liberally used the luxury beauty products, then put on a bathrobe and looked at my clothes, plucking out the dress I’d brought for this evening.
Brodie’s masculine, crisp scent lingered in the the room and his things were strewn around the place. It felt absurdly intimate to have noticed his damp towel on the rail in the bathroom and to see his washbag nestled alongside mine.
My phone vibrated. A text from Tash.Please tell me there’s only one bed. This is just too tropetastic.
I rolled my eyes but dutifully sent her a photo of the bed.
Tash was an avid reader of romances. The kind featuring orcs and fey women. And one bed. Or cave, whatever they had in those stories. I fired off a text.But nothing is going to happen. It’s not a good idea.
Tash:Tell that to him. I saw the way he looked at you when he arrived this morning. Scorchio.
I rolled my eyes again, but couldn’t deny the pulse of awareness down low. I sent back:We have nothing in common.And then the conversation in the car came back to me. My skin prickled. Actually, we did have stuff in common.
Tash:You don’t need stuff in common. You just want to use him to have some mind-blowing orgasms like the one he already gave you.
