Text Appeal (6 page)

He closed his eyes. Her ass would look so sweet in that red leather thong. And if she wore it for him, he’d roll her on her stomach, kiss his way down her back, touching his tongue to all the exposed pieces of flesh between the leather lacings. When he reached her ass, he’d graze his teeth over the firm flesh of each cheek before sliding his hand underneath her to cup her mound, rocking his palm against her so her swollen clit rubbed against the leather there.

His fantasy was interrupted by another message coming through.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.

He moaned.
You’re making me uncomfortable, all right, but not in the way you mean. Don’t apologize. That’s what they make cold showers for.

He hit
Send
and he closed his eyes. What would she do if he went over to her office? He’d indulged in that particular fantasy more than once while staying at this hotel. Hell, truth was, he could have stayed anywhere. In some ways, it would have been better to stay at a hotel that wasn’t hosting the tournament, but he always
stayed here. He’d never let himself over think it. He just did it. Because being near Riley felt good. Because flirting with her was fun.

His phone beeped.

Good. I mean, I’m kind of uncomfortable in that way too.

Groaning, he adjusted his dick. Maybe he’d always stayed here because he believed something like this could happen. He would go into her office without warning, lock the door behind him, and push her up against the wall...

Hell, he couldn’t fuck her in her office when she had a boyfriend anymore than he could go all-in holding an unsuited seven and two. But he could text with the best of them.

You know what would look good with that get-up?
he
typed.

Her response came back quickly.
Tell me.

Leather handcuffs.

If that didn’t scare her off, then, well maybe he
would
go up there.

You’re into that?

He raised a brow.
Really, as depraved as she seemed to think he was, the question took him by surprise.
I can be into a lot of things if the mood is right and both parties are willing.

You’ll have to show me sometime.

That had him shooting up in bed.
Holy shit.

What exactly had happened on that date of hers last night? Had she finally seen her boyfriend for the tool he was? Would that be enough to have good girl Riley honest to God suggesting he tie her up sometime?

He frowned...or maybe someone else had her phone. He scowled at his display. Hadn’t she said she’d lost her cell? Had she ever found it? Had Lacey found it?

If Lacey was fucking with him, he was going to kill her.

He climbed out of bed and tugged on his jeans, exercising great caution as he zipped them. He’d go to Riley’s office, find out she’d lost her phone or forgotten it somewhere, and stop looking like a complete fool to whoever was on the other end of this conversation.

He grabbed the first t-shirt he saw in his suitcase. He pulled it over his head as he strode out of his suite. He was at the elevator when his phone beeped.

I’m kidding, of course.

That confused him even more. If Lacey was screwing with him, why would she pull back like that? If it was Lacey, she was trying really damn hard to be convincing.

Grand Escape was set up with two towers. The casino sprawled across the first floor, and there was a tower for the guest rooms and a tower for Carter Hotels and Entertainment executive offices. He had to go down to the first floor to get to the business offices, and by the time he was on the second elevator his phone was beeping again.

Okay, I feel really stupid now.

Damn. He let out a breath. But what if it was her? If Riley was coming out of her shell, he didn’t want to throw up walls. He wanted to throw down the red carpet.

The elevator opened to her floor and he typed a message as he walked toward her office.

Don’t.
He sent the single word reply.

There.

He didn’t knock on her door when he reached her office. Instead, he barged in and was greeted with the image of her sitting behind her desk. Her hair was pinned back at her neck, but one little strand had escaped and was beginning to curl. Her cheeks were flushed, and she chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at her cell phone.

“Riley?”

Her head snapped up and her eyes grew wide. “Charlie? What are you doing here?”

He wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but the pink in her cheeks deepened.
“I—” Hell.
What could he say? He wanted to see her let loose a little. Calling her out as soon as she started to let go was hardly going to help. He smiled. “Can I take you to breakfast?”

She laughed. “It’s almost four in the afternoon.”

Shit.
Right.
Suits like her had been up for hours now.
“Right.
Lunch then?”

“I already ate. Four hours ago.” She wrinkled her nose, and he thought,
So
damn sweet
. “What’s this about?”

“It’s—” He looked at her phone. Okay, so she didn’t want to talk about it. “I just want to take you to lunch...or dinner, or whatever.”

Her eyes drifted down his body and to his crotch where his jeans were fitting a little tighter than they should, thanks to their texts.

He grinned. “Let me take you out, Riley. I need to get away from the usual suspects.”

She stood in a fluid motion of grace and long limbs. “I have dance in half an hour.” She slung her purse over one shoulder and clutched her phone in her hand.

“Let me walk you out,” he said.

She nodded, smiling at him as he held the door for her. “Are you enjoying your stay at Grand Escape?”

He watched her hips sway as she led the way down the hall. She had one of those bodies with a tiny waist and splayed hips. The kind that made a man
want
to run his hands from waist to hip and test the breadth.

He was imagining those bare hips flaring under the leather corset when she tossed a glance over her shoulder. “Has there been a problem?”

“No.” He caught up with her in three long strides. “Your hotel is lovely, as always.”

He slowed when they got to the elevators, but she kept walking.
“
Ry
?”

“What?” She stopped and he motioned to the elevator.
“Oh, no.
No. I’m...” She shook her head. “I take the stairs. It’s good exercise.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You walk down twenty-two flights of stairs every day?
For the exercise?”

“And up,” she said softly. “It’s not a big deal.”

That did a lot to explain her fantastic ass. “Treat
yourself
today,” he said. “Come on. Live dangerously.”

She turned, but he saw her swallow hard before her face was out of his line of sight. “I’ll pass,” she said before slipping into the stairwell.

Charlie smelled bullshit and followed her. “Why don’t you just put your office on the first floor?” he asked when he’d caught up with her.

“Because my father likes the office with the best view, so I’d have to walk up for meetings all day long anyway.”

Charlie smirked.
Right.
She did it for exercise. “Are you afraid of elevators, Riley?”

She stopped on the landing and looked at her feet.
“Not afraid, exactly.
I choose not to use them.”

He tipped her chin up and ran his thumb along her jaw. “Why?”

Her eyes dropped to his lips.
“Why what?”

What had he been saying? He had no idea. Because those green eyes were on his mouth and all his blood had left his brain and headed south.

She shook her head, breaking the thick tension between them, and looked at her phone again. What? Did she think he was going to send her a text when he was standing right here? He wasn’t above it if that’s what it took.

“Come out with me tonight. I’ll pick you up after your dance class. I want to talk to you about—” He scrambled for a good excuse. “—an idea I had for Lacey’s birthday.”

She frowned. Maybe she was afraid he was going to hold her to her little suggestion about the handcuffs.

He held up both hands.
“Completely platonic.
I promise I won’t come onto you.” Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “Unless you want me to.”

A small smile curved her pink lips and he bit back a groan thinking of how badly he wanted to put that smile in a whole new context. “Okay,” she said softly, turning to continue their long journey down the stairs.
“For Lacey.
But you have to be on your best behavior.”

“You have my word,” he said. And he meant it.
Mostly.

Chapter Four

Riley grabbed her water bottle and tried to catch her breath. Dance class had been brutal tonight. Around her the other dancers were bent at the waist, trying to pull precious oxygen into their lungs.

This was what Riley loved about dance.
Jazz.
Modern.
Ballet.
Ballroom.
She loved it all. It was hard.
Pounding.
Demanding.
A brutal reminder of what her body could do when she pushed it to its limits. It made her feel alive.

Alysse
, her instructor, crossed the room and threw a towel to Riley. “You were
on
tonight, girl.”

Riley grabbed her towel and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Alysse
taught what was quickly becoming Riley’s favorite class: a
mashup
of jazz, hip-hop, and ballet that tested limits. “Thanks. I found my groove, I think.”

Alysse
grinned and flashed a glance over her shoulder before lowering her voice. “Listen, my dance company is having auditions next week. I’d like to see you there.”

Riley waved away the suggestion. “Whatever, we both know I’m not the caliber dancer to go pro.” The invitation made her smile, though. Sometimes, as she danced, she imagined she could one day be the kind of dancer her mother had been…before the drugs.

Alysse
raised her brow. “Yes, you are. You’re the real thing, Riley.”

Riley frowned. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“I’m almost twenty-six,” she said, because that was middle-aged in dancer years.

“All the more reason not to wait.”
She gave a small shrug. “Listen, I’m not about the hard sell. There are plenty of beautiful dancers out there who would be great fit. It’s an opportunity I wanted you to know about.
A week from Saturday, five p.m., here in the studio.
What you do with that information is up to you.”

Riley nodded. “Okay. Thanks,” she said, but she knew she wouldn’t audition. She did, though, for a moment, indulge in the fantasy of being just another girl in her twenties being given the opportunity to dance. She envied them.