Never Kiss a Stranger (7 page)

She was perfect. Abso-fucking-lutely perfect. Her ripe ass. Her perky breasts. The way she didn’t expect me to send her flowers after an amazing night of sex. The way she didn’t turn into an emotional ball of mush after I fucked her. She didn’t need to cuddle or be reassured that everything was cool with us. She didn’t cry or get weird or all sentimental.

She let me dominate her naked, beautiful body, giving herself to me as we both enjoyed the hell out of ourselves.

I’d been looking for someone like her for years. No muss, no fuss. No commitment. No expectations. No reverse psychology mindfuck bullshit.

I was supposed to be able to fuck her sideways and not think about her again until the next week. I was supposed to go about my days like a man who got laid on a regular basis and didn’t give a fuck about where his next lay was going to come from because he already knew.

But it didn’t happen like that. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. The taste of her cherry lips. The scent of her rose perfume. The way her alabaster skin felt under my palms.

I sat in my office chair Monday morning, my body aching with a restlessness that stemmed from the fact that my thoughts didn’t make sense. I picked up my phone and called her.

“You’re not supposed to call me when I’m working,” she answered. “Did I leave something at the hotel?”

“Meet me again,” I said. “Lunch. I can get another hotel room.”

“Can’t. I’m meeting my sister for lunch.”

“Cancel.”

“She’d kill me. I never cancel on her.”

“Tonight,” I said. “After work.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked with a hint of amusement in her tone. “You’re not supposed to do this. We talked about this, remember? Once a week. One hour.”

“I may have agreed to those terms and conditions, but my cock didn’t sign off on it,” I argued. “And I don’t know if that exquisite pussy of yours did, either.”

“Wilder,” she shushed me. “I’m. At. Work.”

“So tonight, then?”

“I have a to-do list a mile long,” she countered. “I don’t have time to run up to Midtown and—”

“Then I’ll come to you.”

“Maybe I don’t want you knowing where I live.”

“Then you come to me.”

“You’re not giving up, are you?”

“Never.”

“I really do have things to do tonight.” Her voice trailed as her defense faded. I could only hope she was thinking about my cock and the things it could do. “You can come over. One hour. Eight o’clock. You have to be gone by nine.”

She rattled off her address and hung up.

Funny. We both lived in SoHo all this time.

* * *

That night, I knocked on a pristine, white door with APT 3B in gold lettering above the peephole.

“You’re early,” she said as soon as she answered.

I glanced at my watch. “Maybe ten minutes.”

She stood between the door and the frame, looking me up and down. I got the feeling she didn’t have a lot of people over. Shit. She probably didn’t let a lot of people into her world.

“If I let you in,” she said, her blue eyes softening with a thin veil of vulnerability, “just please don’t break anything, okay?”

I got the feeling she wasn’t talking about
things
. Not entirely, anyway. I stepped past her.

“Is this Heaven?” Everything was white or cream or some variation thereof. I was quite certain I was standing in the middle of the most immaculately unspoiled apartment in all of lower Manhattan.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Does anyone even live here?” There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found. I slipped my shoes off. “This looks like a model unit. You can’t possibly live here.”

“It’s not a model.” She rolled her eyes and took my jacket, hanging it in a closet filled with a vast array of coats and jackets in shades of creams, grays, and blacks. “I live here.”

I’d been too distracted to notice she’d been standing there in a peach silk robe the entire time, her hair piled high on top of her head. Full face of makeup, though. Of course. She couldn’t let her guard down to save her life.

She shot me a sexy side smirk as I came into her space, tugging on the sash around her waist until her robe fell open.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, biting my lip. Nothing underneath. “I love a girl who shows up ready to go.”

I scooped her up, grabbing her lush ass as she wrapped her thighs around my hips.

She pointed. “Down the hall.” I buried my head in the inviting space of her soft cleavage as I followed her directions.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” I whispered as I laid her down softly on the bed. Her knees clenched together, though she probably didn’t realize she was doing it. I placed a hand on her left knee, then slid down between her thighs and parted her until she was in full bloom. As I lowered myself to taste her arousal she melted herself into the thick blankets, giving herself to me once more.

* * *

A couple hours later, I lay awake in my own bed just blocks from Addison’s place. I’d left the moment we were finished, not wanting to overstay my welcome. It was maybe eleven, and I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept replaying my hour with her. I’d filled the entire hour, too. I didn’t want to waste a single moment with that luxurious pussy of hers.

My phone buzzed on my nightstand. A text from Addison asking if I was still awake.

I waited a moment before calling her back. “You know I don’t text.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but everyone else I know is asleep.”

Her voice held a sort of smoky, Scarlett Johansson quality to it that instantly made my dick hard. “Why’d you assume I’d be up?”

“Am I bothering you? God. I shouldn’t have called. I don’t want you thinking we’re friends or anything.”

“Aren’t we, though?”

“Can men and women ever truly be just friends?” she moaned.

“I think they made a movie about that.”

“Besides, I don’t like labels. I don’t want to label whatever this is. It just… is what it is.”

“Fair.” I rolled onto my back, settling into the covers. “So, what’s on your mind tonight, lovely?”

“I have this big work meeting tomorrow,” she hissed. Even over the phone, I could feel her tension. “I’m really stressing out.”

“What’s it about?”

“I can’t tell you, because I don’t want you knowing what I do for a living,” she said. “Basically, I’m pitching myself to this new client. But this other co-worker of mine is also pitching himself. If this client picks me, it could mean having my best year ever. Winning some awards. Growing my client list. Notoriety. Basically everything I’ve ever dreamed of would come true if this person chooses me.”

“Who’s your competition? Are they any good?”

“Yes,” she said. “If I’m being honest. We’re both good, though. He’s just a tiny bit better. But he’s such an asshole.”

I laughed. “Listen, if this client of yours has an ounce of good sense about him, he’ll see right through the other guy’s bullshit. You just worry about yourself. You can’t control what the other guy does or who the client chooses. Everything’ll be fine in the end.”

“Okay. You’re right.” She breathed in and out slowly. “I’m going to bed now. Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”

“You want to meet for lunch tomorrow?” I offered. “I could take your mind off of things for a little while.”

“Wilder,” she laughed, “you just had me tonight. And you just had me a few days ago. This is exactly what we’re not supposed to do. Once a week!”

“Come on. You know you want it again.”

“I do,” she admitted. “As much as I hate it to admit it. Besides, my sister wants to do lunch again tomorrow, and I already told her I would. She’ll kill me if I canceled.”

“All right, lovely,” I sighed. “While you’re eating your Cobb salad and gossiping with your dear sister, I want you to remember the way my tongue felt between your legs and the way my hair felt between your fingers as you screamed out my name.”

“Goodnight, Wilder.”

“You’re glowing,” Coco said as soon as I sat down. She’d beat me to the restaurant that next day. “There’s something different about you.”

I attempted to stifle the smile on my face, but it was no use.

“You got laid again,” she whispered.

I scanned the room, wondering if I was going to run into Wilder again like I had the last time I was out with my sister. And then I promptly scolded myself for thinking about him like that.

“Maybe.” I unfolded the linen napkin from my place setting and refolded it across my lap before pushing my bread plate up two inches until it aligned with the top of my salad plate. “There. Much better.”

“The, um, dating app guy,” she said. “What’s his name?”

“His name isn’t important,” I answered. “It’s just a little arrangement we have.”

I scanned the room one more time when a tall, dark-haired man in a three-piece suit breezed by. It wasn’t him.

“You’re falling for this guy,” Coco said. “I can tell. It’s written all over your adorable little face.”

I glared at her. “I am
not
falling for him.” She knew me better than anyone in the world, but I would never cop to falling for Wilder. Even if it might be true. “The sex is just really, amazingly good. That’s all.”

“Sure, Addison. Whatever you say.” She leaned back in her seat, staring at me from the corner of her eye.

“Anyway.” I had to change the subject. “Mom still hasn’t told me about her new man.”

“She will. You know how she is. She gets us confused so much anyway, she probably already thinks she told you.”

“I’m just surprised she told you first,” I said. Coco was very opinionated and wasn’t afraid to give our mother an earful when she disagreed with her life choices. Though lately, Coco was so wrapped up in launching her career that she didn’t seem to give a shit about our mother’s personal life anymore.

“You and me both,” she sighed.

* * *

“Want to split a cab?” Kyle asked as we left the office later that afternoon. I checked my watch. We had thirty minutes to get to Butter, where we were meeting Mr. Van Cleef. The idea of riding in a cab and being in such close proximity with Kyle was less appealing than plucking the hair off my head one strand at a time, but it made only sense.

“I guess,” I said, walking quickly to keep a few paces ahead of him. I flew to the corner and hailed a cab, and he climbed in behind me.

“Do you know anything about this guy?” he asked.

“Nope. You?”

“Not a damn thing,” Kyle said. “Hope you brought your A-game.”

“You can cut the crap, Kyle.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to be so ‘on’ all the time.” I stared out the window at the passing buildings, wishing I were anywhere but in that cab with him. “You don’t have to be all slimy salesman around me.”

“God, you’re such a bitch,” he said. “No wonder we didn’t work out.”

“We didn’t work out because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.” I briefly thought about jumping out of the cab at the next stoplight and walking the rest of the way. “Or did you forget? God, it feels like a lifetime ago.”

I lied. It felt like yesterday. I fell out of love with him the day I discovered the cheating, but the sting of betrayal stayed fresh, lingering on me like a stench I couldn’t wash off no matter how hard I tried.

Any relationship I ever tried to forge would be tainted from the start, thanks to the asshole sitting beside me.

The cab pulled up outside of Butter and I climbed out, heading in without waiting for Kyle.

“I’m meeting a Mr. Van Cleef,” I said to the lithe young hostess dressed all in black.

She scanned her computer screen. Her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. “Ah, yes. Wilder Van Cleef?”

Wilder? How many Wilders could there be in the city?

“Right this way,” she said, ushering us to a dark corner of the restaurant where a very striking gentleman sat with his back to us.

The dark hair.

The suit.

The bold-faced Cartier watch on his wrist, which rested on the edge of the table.

It was him.

“Here you are,” the hostess said with a smile before handing us menus.

I took a seat next to him. I wanted to throw up.

“Mr. Van Cleef,” Kyle said, campy confidence oozing from his every pore. “I’m Kyle Maxwell of Bliss Agency, and this is my esteemed colleague and former mentee, Addison Andrews.”

Mentee
? I wanted to kick him in the junk right then and there, but I refrained from doing so. He was lucky.

Wilder stood up, not giving Kyle a second glance. His crystalline eyes glowed in the dim lighting of the restaurant as they locked in on me.

“Very
lovely
to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to me first. He shook Kyle’s hand, though only for a half second.

Kyle began to ramble on about the weather and something about the Hamptons this time of year, but Wilder appeared to tune him out.

Our table was small and intimate, more appropriate for a date than a business meeting. My knees brushed against his under the table, instantly reddening my cheeks as I recalled our night before.

“Our boss tells us you’re looking for an agent who can help you find investment properties in the city,” Kyle said. “Can you tell us more about what you’re looking for? Are you wanting commercial properties? High rises? Condos? Rentals?”

“A little bit of everything,” Wilder said. “I like to diversify my real estate portfolio.”

“Have you heard of Gotham Investments? Hillary Holdings? Pinnacle Heights Rentals?” Kyle said.

“No.” Wilder scrunched his brow.

“Really? Their signs are all over the city,” Kyle said. “Anyway, I’ve worked with all of them. I’ve taken companies who’ve started with a little bit of seed money and grown them into multi-million dollar empires.”

“I’ve already got an empire,” Wilder said. “I’m looking to expand it.”

“And you’re looking at the man who can do that for you,” Kyle said.

Kyle lifted his briefcase to the table, whipping out pamphlets and documents and charts and graphs he’d made, all of them putting his work into numbers. He rambled on about his connections and shared anecdotal stories about sales that almost didn’t happen until he slid in and saved the day.

Through conversation, they discovered they had several mutual friends and shared connections.

“You’re awfully quiet, Addison,” Kyle said, a smug smile across his face as he leaned back like he’d just sealed the deal.

“Hard to get a word in with you two.” The truth was I didn’t feel the need to sell myself to Wilder. He knew how much it meant to me to land him as a client. I’d just told him the night before. And he couldn’t possibly pick Kyle. Kyle was…
Kyle
. He was arrogant and smug, and Wilder was smart enough to see through all of it.

“So as I was saying…” Kyle continued. Wilder kept his gaze on me for a few seconds too long before turning back to Kyle.

A hand gripped my knee underneath the table on Wilder’s side before inching up my inner thigh. He shot me a wink, and a fire began to ignite in my core. Words unspoken, as if we had a language all our own, forced my heart to skip two beats.

“Will you two excuse me for a second?” I had to get up, walk around, and get some fresh air. I headed to the bathroom to pat some cool water on my face, and when I emerged, I fully expected him to be waiting for me like he did the last time. But he was still back at the table with Kyle.

I counted down the minutes until our lunch was over. I just needed a few minutes alone with him, a private meeting to ensure we were on the same page with everything—personal and professional.

“I’m very sorry I have to cut this short,” Wilder said as he checked his watch and stood up. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.”

He shot me a wink and his lips curled into a throttled smile.

“I’ll be in touch with Ms. Bliss very soon with my decision.” His eyes lingered on me before he turned to walk away. The view as he left was breathtaking, and I couldn’t wait to sink my fingers into his muscled glutes and feel the weight of his body pinning mine once again.

“What’s with you?” Kyle sneered. “I’ve never seen you so quiet before. You don’t want his business, or what?”

I shot him a smirk, opting not to feed into his little pissing match. He could prematurely claim victory all he wanted, but he had no idea what was about to hit him. Standing up and grabbing my purse, I slapped cash on the table and headed to the door.

A hand gripped my arm, stopping me the second I made it outside. “You can’t skate by on your good looks forever.”

“Do not touch me.” I jerked my arm out of Kyle’s grasp.

“I’m just saying, I know what men see when they look at you.”

I stepped toward the curb, attempting to hail a cab and tune him out at the same time.

“They see a hot piece of ass. A one-night stand. A pair of pretty lips,” he said. “And they smell it on you. The desperation. They prey on you.”

Kyle must have noticed something between Wilder and me. Something set him off. Something made him feel woefully insecure about this whole competition between us.

“Like the way you preyed on me?” I said as a cab pulled up. “Not all men are like you. And thank God for that.”

I climbed into the cab, trying to pull the door behind me quickly so he couldn’t follow, but he stopped it mid-pull. With the door half open and a sinister leer on his face, he said, “That’s where you’re wrong, Addi. We’re
all
the same.”

I yanked the door shut, almost slamming his hand in the process, and hightailed it back to the office, wiping the tears as quickly as they fell and praying I could hold myself together long enough to get through the rest of the day.

* * *

“Addison, Brenda is calling a staff meeting,” Skylar said, standing in the office doorway later that day. The office usually closed at six, and it was five-thirty. We never had impromptu meetings before closing.

I glanced at my watch. I was supposed to meet an old client for dinner that night and go over a few new listings. She was a single mom divorcée in the market for a classic six on the Upper East Side, and I had a hot listing on my hands that’d be perfect for her, though it was slightly out of her preferred price range.

“It’s mandatory,” Skylar said with an eye roll, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. I supposed my perfectionist tendencies forced her to be more intuitive when it came to working for me.

We headed to the conference room. Brenda was a bundle of excited energy at the head of the long table. Her fingers twitched and flexed as she made small talk with another agent. A smile permanently fixed on her face told me she was about to announce good news.

I sat down far away from Kyle and stared out the window, wondering what Wilder was doing in that very moment.

Stop thinking about him!

“All right, everyone,” Brenda said when the last agent entered the room and closed the door. “I have big news!”

“We’ve just landed a huge client,” she said. “One of our biggest yet. His name is Wilder Van Cleef of Van Cleef Investments. He called me earlier today, shortly after meeting with Addison and Kyle, and told me he’d absolutely give us his business and that choosing his agent was an absolute no-brainer.”