Читать книгу Between The Sheets - P.J. Mellor - Страница 16

Connor winced as he placed the ice bag on his bruised knuckles.

“Are you still there?” Bill’s disembodied voice echoed in the hotel suite.

“Yeah. I just put fresh ice on my hand.”

“Dude.” Bill’s laughter was in the word. “I still can’t get my mind wrapped around you decking a guy. That’s so un-Connor.”

“Like I said, he had it coming. But the thing that gets me is it turned out he is the Realtor’s ex-husband.”

“Ouch. Bet that was awkward.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Damn. He wasn’t the kind of guy to kiss and tell. Why couldn’t he keep his big mouth shut?

Maybe Bill wouldn’t notice.

“Oh, yeah? What’s the Realtor look like? Is she hot? Hey! You two didn’t…?”

“Don’t be a jerk. She’s my Realtor, for cripes sake. I’d have reacted like that when any woman was treated that way.” He flexed his aching hand, then had an immediate flashback to the way his hand had looked on Andrea Redd’s porcelain skin. And farther south. The image had his dick twitching, eager for more action.

No doubt about it, he needed to date more.

“Well, like I said, beware of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. But, then again, maybe if she’s hot and available, she might be persuaded to sweeten the deal a little. You know, you scratch her itch, she’ll scratch yours? You’re the efficiency expert. Think of it as multitasking!” Bill’s laugh boomed from the walls of the empty sitting area.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” Connor dropped the ice bag and walked to the speaker phone. “I’m starving. I need to order room service. Besides, this conversation is over.” He pressed the OFF button, then stood staring at the phone.

What he’d told Bill was true. He really was hungry. But Bill had unknowingly planted the seed.

Had Andrea had sex with him simply to make a sale? More importantly, would she have done something like that?

Not that he really cared. Andrea Redd was not his type. If he had a type, which he did not. Not after his experience with Whitley. Maybe that was his initial attraction to Andrea, since she was definitely Whitley-esque. Maybe he needed to prove he’d moved on and was now immune to powerful women.

Then again, maybe he was an idiot, doomed to repeat past mistakes. After all, he’d never been the casual-sex, love-’em-and-leave-’em type of guy. It would make sense, in a perverse sort of way, that he’d read more into the encounter with his sexy Realtor than truly existed. Pathetic. That was him, lonely and pathetic—despite being touted as one of Houston’s most eligible bachelors last year.

Change occurs only when the subject is open and conducive to it. A leopard may not be able to change its spots, but he could change the behavior that caused heartache by remaining detached. After all, sex was a physical response to stimuli. It was only natural for his response to be in direct correlation to Andrea’s sexual aggression.

Still pathetic, but natural.

Appetite gone, he stripped on his way into the bathroom and stepped into the stinging hot shower, closing his eyes, willing images of Andrea’s perfect, naked body from his mind.

His soapy hand slid to his more-than-semierect penis. Damn, he wished Andrea was here, wished it was her hand caressing him, stroking his balls.

His hips bucked at the thought, his erection jerking to attention.

He couldn’t remember ever feeling the way he’d felt that afternoon. No woman had ever had the immediate effect on him that Andrea Redd had. Ever. The effect she obviously still had.

His breath hitched while his heart threatened to break out of his chest.

Just sex, just sex, just sex…

His climax came fast and hard, leaving his knees weak. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor of the huge shower. A shower obviously built with more than one occupant in mind. And he couldn’t help but envision Andrea beside him, stroking him. Kissing him. Loving him.

Which was totally ridiculous. They’d had sex. End of story. Now it was his decision as to whether he continued looking at beach houses with her or switched Realtors. Or cut his losses and left the island entirely.

Regardless, one fact remained.

He was still alone.

Despite having world-class sex just a few hours earlier. Despite being pretty sure Andrea wouldn’t be opposed to a replay. Or several repeat performances. Despite having just taken the edge off via masturbation.

He was not only alone, but he was also lonely.