Page 9 of Easy Come

"Take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds."

It took her a second to comprehend. "Oh, right." She sucked in a deep breath, and I worked hard at not exploding as I held her slim wrists in my hands and watched that cleavage rise up with her breath. Another erotic image flashed through my head. Only this time, it was my cock slipping between the mounds of her breasts, wedging itself snuggly in her deep, warm cleavage.

She released the breath she'd been holding. I released mine too. I let go of her hands.

She waited to see if my little trick had done the job and smiled. "You sure know your hiccough cures."

"I'm sort of an expert. Growing up, my younger brother always had the hiccoughs. With him, it wasn't as much nerves as it was him gobbling his food too fast."

"I'm not nervous," Georgie insisted. "I guess I'll let you get back to work. I'm sure you have a lot more important things to do than cure my hiccoughs. Thank you for lunch." She reached for the box, but I put my hand on it.

"On second thought, I'm going to hold onto this. Leave your address with Olivia on your way out. I'll have a car pick you up tonight at eight."

"Why would you do that?"

"Judging from the fact that just looking at the box gave you a case of hiccoughs, I think this little project is going to take more effort on my part." Before she could protest I continued. "I promise, I won't touch you. You'll be on the self-discovery part of the journey all by yourself." At least for now, I wanted to add but didn't.

Georgie's chin shifted back and forth in thought. It seemed I might have just scared her away from the plan. My own erotic impulses had gotten in the way. Her obvious case of nerves had made it clear that she'd need a lot more coaching, but a good deal of my decision came from my own need to see her again. Of course, I would probably have to chain myself to the fucking wall not to touch her or guide her self-exploration with some heavy duty exploration of my own.

I leaned against the front of my desk and crossed my arms. Georgie took a small step back to put more space between us. It was hard to know why. Maybe I repelled her. Fuck, I hoped that wasn't the case.

"What do you say, Georgie? Otherwise, I can tell you all the hardship tales my partners and I endured as kids, and you can write one of those predictable and preachy rags to riches stories. Although, something tells me predictable and preachy is not your style. Provocative, controversial, edgy, that seems more like the kind of story that would get those long fingers of yours floating across the keyboard.”

She thought about what I said for a few minutes, and I greedily used that time to look at her, every inch of her.

Her blue eyes floated to the box on the desk and then back to me. "Eight o'clock?"

Chapter Seven

Georgie

The driver, Noah, a quiet, hairless man, with two silver plugs in his ears and a courteous smile pulled the blue Jaguar up to a pair of iron gates. He pushed a button on the console and the gates swung open. Once again, I found myself fidgeting with the hem of my dress, just like I'd done with my skirt during lunch. The dress, like the skirt, came to just a few inches above my knees, a length that would have passed muster with even the strictest Catholic school nun. I'd changed five times, first opting for something a little more party like, with a short, flirty hem. But with each change of wardrobe, I went a little more conservative. The plain dress I'd ended up in as the driver buzzed the intercom on my apartment had been one that I bought for my grandmother's funeral. Unlike the blouse that I had now tossed in the Good Will bag, the dress fit nicely across my ample chest. It buttoned up easily and there was no gap, like this afternoon's gap, an innocent parting of fabric that had Trey's complete attention. And he'd made no real effort to hide his extreme interest in my ill-fitting blouse.

I wasn't exactly sure why I'd decided to go along with his plan, whatever that plan might be. Mostly, I wanted to write an interesting article, and the angle of four boys from a poor neighborhood becoming massively rich selling sex goodies wasn't going to cut it with my boss. I had to admit, I was also more than a little curious about exactly how Trey intended for me to discover mysexual self. As far as sex went, I considered myself to be the typical modern career woman. I wasn't prudish. I liked a good romp in the hay as much as the next person, but as far as my sex life becoming a critical and intriguing part of my life, I just couldn't see that happening. Still, I had to admit, Trey was the first man I'd met who could make me blush from my head to my toes with just a suggestive smile or casual touch. When he took hold of my wrists to help rid me of my hiccoughs, before I realized what was happening, my heart had set off on a speed competition with my pulse.

Noah pulled the car around a fountain and parked in front of a large contemporary style house. He opened the door and I stepped out. It was a balmy night with only a slight breeze to tease the palm trees lining the driveway and house. The house was more glass than walls. Sitting at the top of a hill as it was, it seemed there would be views from every room.

Tall cherry wood doors, both polished to glossy perfection, beckoned me up the stone steps. Trey met me at the door. He'd traded his suit and tie for a black t-shirt and jeans. His arms bulged with muscles and a smattering of ink covered each bicep. I was quickly trying to decide if he was more stunning in a suit or in casual attire, but I gave up because there was no right answer. He was just plain stunning. In fact, his all around gorgeousness might very well have been the deciding factor for me going along with this crazy idea.

The interior of his house was just how I'd expected it, masculine, minimalist and modern. Which meant no woman. Or at least that was what I was hoping.

"Follow me." Trey led me from the foyer to a hallway. "I thought a drink or two might help you loosen up."

"Absolutely. It's a warm night. I wasn't sure what to wear and after a few choices ended up on the floor of my bedroom, I ended up with this dress. I wore it to my grandmother's funeral, so it's probably the wrong choice for tonight. In fact, the more I think about it and her, my grandmother that is, it's a supremely bad choice. She was one of those super sweet granny types." We turned the corner to a big room. He stopped at a wet bar but that didn't stop me from prattling on with my nonsense.

"I'd tell you that you have a lovely home, but it seems kind of silly since you probably realize that it's lovely." I knew I was rambling but couldn't stop myself. Now all I needed was a good loud batch of hiccoughs to really make me look ridiculous.

Rather than stop my longwinded blathering, he listened with those dark smooth brows and that non-judgmental gaze.

So I stopped on my own, deciding I was done making a fool of myself. "I'm so sorry about that. As you might have guessed, I'm a little nervous."

Trey had a confident smile that revealed some highly sexy creases on each side of his mouth. This afternoon, at work, he'd been clean shaven, but tonight, a dark stubble had sprouted along his strong jaw. Thankfully, he hadn't taken the time to shave it off. It suited him very well. Oddly enough, my mind went straight to imagining that beard stubble chafing my chin and even my nipples as he kissed me.

Trey's hand lifted, and before I knew what was happening, Trey was pushing a strand of my hair back off my face. "I don't want you to be nervous. Which is why I've prepared a shaker filled with a Manhattan . . . or two."

"A Manhattan or two just might do the trick. At the very least, it will stop me from spilling out all my deepest secrets." I shrugged. "Not that I have many of those. Oh my gosh, drink, please, so I can shut up."

Trey poured a rose pink Manhattan into a martini glass, and I sipped it like a kid drinking Kool-aid. I winced as the drink burned my throat. It was extra strong, which would help soothe my nerves.

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