“I know, I know. And once I’m done with this pop-up, I’m going to take a step back from free labor. You know, I’ve been thinking about starting a consulting business for years. The prospect is just so daunting to do on my own—”
Miles set his beer down on the table. “I’m in.”
My mouth popped open. “What? You’re in on what?”
“Your business idea. Working at my brother’s company has been a learning experience, but I can’t grow there.” He flicked his hand next to his head before I could formulate a response. “I know, I know. You don’t take me seriously. But the minute you started talking, it clicked. I want in on this.”
Elise looked from Miles to me. “He’s an incredibly talented visual marketer. He won’t let me call him an artist, but he is. Miles is the lead designer of the Andes stores.”
Rebecca and Simon nodded. Since all four of them worked at Andes, Weston’s outdoor apparel company, they would have inside knowledge of Miles’s skill set. If they agreed with Elise’s assessment, I had to believe them.
Elise’s brow pulled into a frown. “Are you serious about leaving Andes?”
“You don’t know what it’s like to live in my brother’s shadow,” Miles said. “I’m ready to have my own thing.”
“Pfft. I don’t know what it’s like? My brother is Elliot Levy, billionaire property genius. Actually, I’m not even certain I know what he does.” Elise tapped her chin like she was thinking.
“But you’ve always done things your way, Lisie. Plus, you don’t work for him.” Miles turned his attention squarely on me. “I do have skills I can bring to the table. If that’s not enough, I have a shitload of money I’ll never be able to spend in this lifetime I also bring with me. What do you say?”
I wasn’t sure how seriously to take him. “Are you pulling my leg?”
“Not at all.” He smoothed his hand down his thigh. “Let’s set a time to sit down and talk at a place that doesn’t involve alcohol. But I’m letting you know now if you’re serious, so am I. This feels right.”
As I sat with the idea and drank yet another vodka cran, running it over in my mind again and again, it strangely felt right to me too.
Holy shit.
Back at home, I lay in bed, still buzzed from my drinks. I was restless. My things were packed for tomorrow. I’d showered and put on pajamas. The condo was still and quiet. This was the perfect spell for my passing out the moment my head hit the pillow, but my thoughts wouldn’t stop racing.
Worries about how my family would take the news weighed on me like bricks.
A fluttering of excitement about possibly starting something with Miles yanked me back up.
The constant gnawing of wondering when Luca would come home ate at me.
We were headed on a four-hour motorcycle ride tomorrow and since I’d rather not end up as roadkill, I needed to be rested.
But I kept circling back to Miles’s offer to be my partner. I was trying really hard to temper my excitement—who knew if it would really happen? But I couldn’t get over the feeling of being in the right place at the right time. So, of course, my mind blasted off with ideas and lists of all the things that would have to get done for us to truly launch a business together.
It was all I could do not to vault out of bed, crack open my laptop, and start typing up a plan.
Fuck. I really needed to get some sleep.
There was one thing that never failed to quiet my mind. Rolling to my side, I opened the drawer of my bedside table and pulled out my favorite vibrator.
An orgasm or two was exactly what I needed.
Chapter Eighteen
Luca
Luca
I arrived home earlier than usual, hoping for a conversation with Saoirse before our trip tomorrow. But the lights downstairs were off, and the den was dark. She must’ve gone to bed early.
As I climbed the stairs to the second level, I heard noises coming from her bedroom.
Distinct noises I recognized from the one time she’d made them for me.
Registering her moans of pleasure, my brain dropped out and instinct took the wheel. Charging up the rest of the stairs, I pushed open my wife’s cracked door, violence thrumming through my veins.
The scene in front of me was not what I’d expected to see.
Saoirse was alone, her honey hair spread over her crisp, white pillowcase, legs splayed wide. Her hands were frozen, one on her breast, the other holding something pink inside her slick, swollen pussy.
Oh shit.
She lifted her head, her eyes latched on to mine. “I’m busy, Luca. If you’re not going to help out, close the door when you leave.” Her head fell back, and her eyes closed. Those frozen hands of hers thawed, slowly working over her flesh.
I should have gone. Left her bedroom, the condo, the fucking city.
Instead, the same instincts from before pushed me forward to the armchair in the corner of her bedroom. I straightened my tie and took a seat.
My view was exquisite. Saoirse’s long legs stretched across the mattress, revealing the vibrator sliding in and out of her sleek little pussy. Her hips rose and fell with each thrust, soft yet urgent cries spilling from her parted lips.
It came to an abrupt stop all too soon. Saoirse groaned, yanking the vibrator from her pussy, and jackknifed upright.
“You’re distracting me, Luca. I was so close when you wandered in.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
Her glare was filled with a thousand sharp knives. And trouble. Fucking trouble.
“Fine. I won’t let you stop me.” She stood from the bed and pulled her tank over her head then shimmied out of her panties. Completely naked, she stalked over to me and leaned down, her tits in my face, her hands braced beside my head. “You want to watch, you can have an up close and personal show.”
She spun around and parked her bare ass on my suited lap. Then she fell against me, her back aligning with my chest.
“What are you doing, pretty girl?” My fingers curled over the ends of the arms of the chair. “Asking for trouble?”
One leg draped over my knee, then the other, her feet sliding down my calves. “No, I’m only finishing what you interrupted, and you looked like a nice place to sit.”
Ah, Jesus. This girl might have the bubbly girl-next-door act down, but she was a little vixen through and through. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Far be it from me to deny you anything.” I dipped my head, bringing my mouth to the crook of her neck. “Are you going to get started, or are you all talk?”
My lips brushed her skin, sending shivers through her body and a rush of blood to my cock.
Head turned, her nose and mouth whispered across my jaw. “Only one of us is all talk—and it’s not me.”
She dragged her palm down her center, stopping at her core.
“Touch yourself. Show me you don’t need me,” I ordered.
Her fingers slowly circled her clit. “Mmm…I don’t need you for more than being my chair.”
Reaching up, she cupped the back of my neck. “You’re a very comfortable chair, except for the thick, hard cock poking my ass.”
Releasing my hold on the armrest, I lightly slapped her inner thigh. She jumped then ground her ass hard against me. I sucked in a breath. “Less talking and more riding your hand.”