Page 3 of Not-So Real Breakup
I swallowed a wicked smile and shook my head. “You don’t want to stay there. It’s not as nice as it looks. Besides, it wouldn’t be very hospitable of me if I didn’t insist that my friend’s sister stay with me.” The half-truth slid smoothly off my tongue.
However, that comment made me think about something I’d been successfully ignoring. Samantha was my friend’s little sister. Technically, I would be breaking some kind of “bro code” if I went after Samantha. Then again, we weren’t frat brothers in college, so did I really give a shit about it?
Fuck no.
I’d known from the moment I saw Samantha that she was a “forever” kind of woman, not a “for right now.” Not that I’d ever been into the latter. And with so much of my focus on my business, I’d had no time for a relationship. I couldn’t even remember the last time I was tempted to consider it. But it had only taken an instant to decide that I wanted everything with Samantha.
It might put a strain on my relationship with Landon for a while, but he’d get over it when he saw how happy Samantha was. Because I intended to make her deliriously happy.
Knocking her up would ensure he didn’t try to break us up.
An image of my woman with my baby inside her round belly had my cock leaking, and I curled my hands into fists so hard my knuckles popped.
It drew Samantha’s attention, and I immediately relaxed them so she wouldn’t think I was frustrated or angry with her.
“Would you invite Landon to stay with you?” she queried hesitantly.
“Of course,” I blatantly lied. I felt a momentary pang of guilt, but there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to get Samantha in my bed.Our bed.I tried that out in my head and found I liked it a whole fuck of a lot. So I smiled charmingly and watched in triumph as she blushed and returned it.
“Okay.”
I practically jumped to my feet, not about to give her time to change her mind. My suit coat was draped over my chair, and I quickly swung it on, buttoning it in a strategic spot so that it helped hide my body’s reaction to her.
“Since you came straight here, I assume your luggage is still in your car?”
Samantha nodded as she hesitantly stood, hiking her purse strap over her shoulder before smoothing her skirt down.
“Perfect. Let’s go.” I strode to the office door and opened it, then stepped aside so she could exit ahead of me.
“You don’t have to leave work early on my account,” she insisted as she approached.
“I’m not.” I made a mental note to text my assistant and have her cancel my two evening meetings.
We walked to the elevator in comfortable silence, but once we were alone in the lift, the sexual tension between us seemed to crackle with electricity. We both faced the door, but I could feel Samantha’s gaze sliding up to me several times, and I fought with my desire to shove her back against the wall and kiss the hell out of her.
However, the knowledge of the security cameras and fear that I wouldn’t be able to stop once I began kept me from making a move.
The doors slid open in the parking garage, and I ignored my Aston Martin Vulcan parked in the CEO spot and held my hand out to Samantha. “Keys,” I requested.
Samantha’s brow went up, and she double blinked. “You want to drive my car?”
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked with a smirk.
“Well, no, but what about your car?”
I shrugged and looked pointedly at my empty hand. “Someone can bring this one to me if I need it, but it won’t be necessary because I have several more cars at home.” Actually, the Aston Martin was the only one I had at my penthouse in the city. The other cars were in the garage at my house in Winnetka. It was forty-five minutes from the city, so I stayed in the penthouse during the week unless I had family visiting—the only people I ever brought to my home.
I suddenly realized I wanted to take Samantha to the house. It was where she belonged. And once I had her there, I wouldn’t let her leave without me—to ensure she always returned—until she agreed to make it her permanent home.
Samantha studied me curiously, then dug into her purse and withdrew her car keys. “I’m over there.” She gestured toward a mostly empty area of the garage, and I frowned when I realized she’d been out here alone, walking to the door in a dimly lit space where someone could have hurt her.
Her keys landed in my palm, and my fingers closed around them as I glared at the shitty lights that were supposed to illuminate the underground space. I’d be having a chat with our VP of Facilities about putting in brighter lights, and a lot of them. Although, I doubted I’d ever be comfortable with Samantha walking out here alone, especially at night.
I followed her confident steps, practically salivating over her naturally sexy movements. We stopped at a green Volkswagen Arteon, and she glanced at the car, then back at me dubiously. “Are you sure you want to take my car? I can’t imagine you’ll be very comfortable.”
I laughed as I unlocked the car and pulled open the passenger side door. “I’ve ridden in smaller vehicles,” I admitted. “It may seem like it, but this one isn’t much smaller than my Aston Martin.”
Samantha scrunched her nose adorably and looked me up and down. “Why would you drive such a small car?”