Page 31 of Tender Offer
A waitress stops at our table to fill up our waters. “He’s fine,” I say in response to her cautious looks at my brother, whose head is now rattling the table.
She hesitates but nods before rushing off.
“You’re such a child.” I toss my napkin at his head, and he uses it to dab his eyes.
“No”—he wipes a stray tear—“you’re completely smitten. Admit it, bruv.”
I lift a shoulder. “Never denied it.”
“Alright.” William checks his watch and stands. “I’ll leave you to it. Some of us have business to conduct.” He reaches in his pocket to pull out money but stops at my headshake. “Let me guess, you bought out the café for your meeting?”
I cut my eyes at him, and his lips spread into a grin.
He laughs. “Tell my future sister-in-law I said hi. Can’t wait to meet her.”
Meetings take up the next two hours on the second floor of the café that’s become my satellite office. The lower level is open to patrons, but the top floor will stay closed until I’m done. It’s a bit of a hassle coordinating security, which is why William and I conduct business at the office or approved locations.
I’m finishing up a call when Madison’s voice floats up from the bottom of the wooden staircase. The café itself is small, but there’s enough chatter below to suggest the wait staff are inthe middle of a lunchtime rush. I make a mental note to leave through the private entrance.
The sound of heels moving up the steps accelerates my pulse. I adjust my red and blue tie and run my fingers through my hair for the twelfth time. You’d think I was closing my first deal with how I’m acting.
Madison examines the white subway tile walls adorned with hanging plants and vintage photos. This floor is narrower than downstairs, with only six or so tables with metal chairs. I pulled two together for my laptop and paperwork.
Her back is to me, granting me a full view of that thick ass stuffed into a knee-length skirt. It’s been years since I made those cheeks clap, and I miss the beat.
It takes her a minute to notice that the floor extends back to where I am. Her lips part when she peeks over a shoulder.
I stand, button my suit coat, and make my way to her. She hasn’t moved from her spot next to the stairs, and I haven’t taken my eyes off of her. With our height difference, I’m at the perfect vantage point to watch her cheeks heat and her deep breaths stretch her shirt beneath her jacket.
A flashback of me licking and rolling her light brown nipples between my teeth sends blood straight to my dick. The bulge growing behind my zip earns her full attention.
Her tongue drags over her lower lip. “What are you doing here?” The question is for my erection.
“Forgot my measurements?” I keep my tone low and force down a smile.
“I’m meeting someone.” Her brows kiss. “A prospective client.”
“In need of a stylist,” I finish for her and motion to my tables.
“Doubtful.” Her glare sharpens on my custom-fit navy suit.
I grin. “Never said I didn’t have a tailor.” I motion again to the tables. “Please.”
She mumbles, “You don’t need me,” in a strut that does nothing to deflate my erection.
The gentleman who makes my suits is a retired Italian designer in his sixties, and he’s worth every euro. But Madison is still wrong. I need her, more than she knows.
I unbutton my suit coat and mentally prepare for a battle that will be bigger than any boardroom showdown to date. Having my assistant schedule a consultation under her name was a gamble. Madison made it clear she wants nothing to do with me. The fact that she’s still sitting here would make me question it…if her thoughts weren’t already showing her hand.
Every line on my face is under investigation as she searches for an answer that’s staring back at her. I’m the man from Ravenous, the one who sent her over the edge with his tongue.
The whispered chant of my name on her lips skated across my body, shattering every assumption that a second chance isn’t in the cards. Madison wants me. The proof was in her calling out for me and creaming my face.
She blinks through hooded eyes. “Sorry.”
“No worries, Puff.” She shifts in her seat at the nickname.Good girl. I straighten, widening my legs so our knees touch.
Madison puckers her lips and tilts her chin. “If this is some kind of game, your security won’t make it upstairs fast enough before I throw you out the window. Time is money, and I don’t like mine wasted.”
