My fingers itched to slide up the soft cotton that stretched tight over his bulging muscles. The gentle rise and fall of his chest halted when I placed my palm on his abs.

I wanted nothing more than for him to take me upstairs and let me get very well acquainted with his penthouse. I’d stare at the backsplash while he fucked me, my torso bent over the kitchen counters. I bet he could pin me up against a wall and use my back to find the studs. I could lay on my back and debate light fixtures while he braced his body above mine, making me feel everything Preston never could.

I wasn’t opposed to a one-night stand, but with my client? Forget Sherwin-Williams Agreeable Gray. Morally gray was quickly becoming my favorite color.

“How about this?” Tatum said, breaking the spell as he turned, keeping one hand on the small of my back while he led me inside. “We’ll go up and take a look around.” He punched the elevator button and waited. “And then we’ll open a bottle of wine and see where the date portion of the evening takes us.”

He was alluring; I’d give him that. Tatum was unmistakably hot, but his quiet, observant personality shrouded him in mystery.

“And if I decide I need to turn in early?”

Tatum reached out and held the elevator door while I stepped in. “Then I have three weeks to wear you down before I’m on the road again.”

“For this job that you’re so secretive about,” I mused. The way he had immediately changed the conversation back at the restaurant when I asked about his career didn’t go unnoticed.

He punched a four-digit code into the keypad beside the elevator control panel. I already knew it, of course. Samantha had included it in the dossier on the condo.

“And maybe,” he continued, ignoring the job comment again. “I’ll catch you wearing those high heels and carrying a sledgehammer. Do you wear hardhats?”

I snickered. “Do you have a thing for women in business-formal and safety gear?”

Brazenly, he looked me up and down. “I think I’d have a thing for you in just about anything.” He paused and added, “Or nothing.” The elevator slowed to a stop at the top floor.

“For the record,” I said, clearing my throat as the elevator doors opened directly into the foyer of his condo. “I was at a job site before our dinner. A carpenter I contracted for some custom cabinets had a family emergency. I didn’t want the job to get behind schedule, so I dropped in and did what needed to be done.”

“Which was?”

“Cabinet doors needed to be installed. Nothing crazy. Drilled the hinges, got them set, did a little caulk and touch-up paint.”

His eyes trailed to my torn pantyhose. “How’d that happen?”

I laughed nervously. “Caught a snag climbing off the countertops.”

We lingered there, standing in the shower of sparks pouring between us. Regardless of how much I tried to remind myself that this was a job, it felt better than any date I’d been on lately. And it wasn’t even an actual date. Not that I had been on many dates since Preston and I ended things in a blazing dumpster fire of a breakup.

Maybe I was due for a little rebound hookup. Something to get my mojo back before the season started.

I had looked at photos of the penthouse. It was new construction. Tatum was the first resident of the unit. The updates would be primarily cosmetic unless he wanted a wall taken out or a room split into two.

The plunk of a cork popping out of a wine bottle startled me out of my thoughts. Tatum was no longer in front of me. Instead, he was at the kitchen island, pouring two glasses of something red.

“What happened to the tour?” I asked and eased into the open concept living area. It was a spacious kitchen-great-room combo.

Stainless steel appliances lightened the dark cabinetry and black backsplash. Dark gray countertops made the room seem heavy. The recessed lighting didn’t offer much due to the high ceilings. An electric fireplace offered a faux warmth on the other side of the space. It was trendy, but too many trends made the room feel impersonal. Like the builder had decided that it was what must be done because of a few arbitrary checkboxes rather than what should be done.

“This way, I figured we’d both enjoy taking the tour.” He held up the bottle. “Syrah okay with you?”

I wasn’t much of a wine connoisseur, but the bottle looked fancy. Much fancier than the three-dollar bottle of Winking Owl chilling in my fridge. “Syrah is great,” I offered weakly.

Tatum held both glasses by their stems and rounded the expansive island. He stopped in front of me, offering my pick of the two. I took the one out of his left hand and clinked it against his.

“Cheers,” I said with a pathetic smile.

Tatum mumbled a reciprocal “Cheers” as he took a sip. He lowered his glass and eyed the wine. “Not bad.”

“You didn’t choose the bottle?”

He shook his head. “Housewarming gift. It was here when I came in this afternoon.”

Tags: Maggie Gates Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net