Sexy as Hell Box Set Read Online Free PDF Page A

“That’s it, relax. I’ve got you. There’s nothing to worry about, you’re safe with me.”
    I closed my eyes. It was as though she was melting into me, becoming part of me. Taking over all my senses with her touch and the wind of her breaths. I let myself drift. Tension wept from my body, seemingly soaking backwards, into hers.
    Suddenly she stepped away. “You may go.” Her voice was harsh, the sing-song quality gone as quickly as it had arrived.
    I balled my fists, and a whoosh of air plundered my lungs. “Yes.” I managed. My back, though previously hot and tacky, felt cold and naked without her, and my fingers were stiff and empty.
    “I’ll see you tomorrow. Nine p.m. You know where I live. Pick me up in that fancy car of yours you told me about.”
    “Tomorrow, I don’t know if…” I hesitated and stared at a knot in the wood of the door that had been painted over but was still faintly visible. Tomorrow was a full day of catching up on some tax returns I’d been putting off for weeks, and there was the Morton project that still needed work. I’d been anticipating a sixteen-hour day at least. “Okay, I’ll see you at nine.”
    I opened the door, stepped through it and into the hall. Damn, I’d have to work the weekend now.
    “Victor,” she called.
    I stopped but didn’t look back. She wanted me to, so I didn’t. She’d caught me in her web, but I didn’t have to do everything she said. Which meant I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of facing her now as well as everything else.
    “You’ve made great progress for a first night,” she said with a chuckle in her tone. “I might be able to knock that sweetness out of you after all.”

Chapter Four
     
    “Good morning, Mr Partridge,” Mary, my sixty-something, bespectacled, grey-hair-complete-with-bun receptionist said. “I put the tax papers on your desk that you asked for.”
    She hesitated, scanned me up and down. If she’d been anyone else I’d have wiped the floor with her for a look like that. But Mary had been with me from the word go, and I knew damn well without her meticulous ordering of my files and her no-nonsense-but-silver-spoon politeness with clients, Partridge and Partners wouldn’t be where it was today.
    “Is everything all right?” she asked.
    I sighed but kept walking. “I’m fine, just didn’t sleep well. A lot on my mind.”
    She shook her head in a motherly way. “ Mmm, you really must learn to switch off. Would you like me to bring you some of your coffee?”
    “That would be great.” I threw her a smile then shut myself in my office.
    The early morning light cast long shadows on the plush silvery-white carpet, and a stream of dust motes danced in the air above my huge, angled steel desk which today, Mary had placed the Morton’s complex designs upon.
    Ignoring the large technical scrawl, I walked over to my chocolate-brown leather chair and sat at a squat wooden desk that held a green table lamp. I didn’t have the brainpower to look over the Morton’s elaborate watermill conversion just yet. Maybe midmorning I’d give it a go. Perhaps then my neurons would be firing in a way I was familiar with.
    I sat back and spun in my chair. Gazed out of the floor-to-ceiling window at the London rooftops. The sky still held a delicate dawn haze, the day having not yet washed away the night entirely. Chimney pots released curling wisps of black smoke, and in the distance, beyond the tip of the London Eye, two plane trails had crossed in the perfect blue sky, leaving behind a giant white kiss.
    I hadn’t even kissed Zara last night. Not to say there hadn’t been plenty of tongue action on her part, but despite everything, I hadn’t kissed her mouth.
    Just great, Victor.
    But did I want to? If I was honest, I wasn’t sure. She was intriguing, slutty, unusual and tempting all at the same time. A walking contradiction. I wanted to throw her on a bed and fuck her as much as I wanted her to throw me to the floor