Page 32 of Personal Foul
“He’s heading up the elevator now, Ms. Carr.”
“Thank you, Antonio.”
I quickly hang up my phone and toss it on the couch, not bothering to pay attention to where it lands. My adrenaline spikes as my heels click on the tile floor, walking through my dining room to my door.
This is a bold move, but Colson makes me feel bold. He also makes me feel confident and sexy. He’s been going out of his way to show me how much he wants me. I’m eager to chip away at his calm and cool exterior and see if I’m able to make him crack.
Opening the door, I adjust the jersey making sure it’s covering enough to pull off the look of a dress. I didn’t intend for it to be, but I knew after seeing the way he looked at me in my office, he’d appreciate seeing my legs in the black heels I’m wearing for him. Leaning against the door frame, I watch as the lights blink above the elevator, bringing him closer and closer to me.When the doors part and I see him standing there, dressed in his fitted suit and his gym bag hanging from his shoulder, I can feel the heat pooling in my tummy.
His eyes widen, taken by surprise when he comes face-to-face with me, but when his eyes fall to the jersey with his number on the front, his jaw drops open.
One point for me.
His eyes stare at my legs, my right leg crossed over my left.
“Nice shoes.”
“Thanks, I thought you might like them. They go well with the outfit.”
He smirks, and a grin breaks out across my face.
“I have to agree with that statement. Were you waiting for me?”
“No, I just like hanging out in the hallway with nothing but your jersey on. Seemed like a pleasant way to greet the neighbors.”
“Well, are you going to greet me?”
“Of course, but to properly greet you, I’m going to have to ask you to come inside.”
“Is that right?”
Pushing off the door frame, I take a step into my apartment, careful of how I walk so I don’t give anyone else who may be looking out their peephole a show they may not have expected to receive.
When I peer over my shoulder to make sure he’s following me, I notice his eyes are falling on where the edge of the jersey hits my upper thigh.
Holding the door open for him, I stand back and wait for him to walk through. He doesn’t wait for me to close the door behind him, dropping his bag inside the doorway as he turns to kiss me. His hands are pressed against the side of my face, holding me as he pushes me back enough to let the door close behind him.
He doesn’t stop kissing me, even when his hand reaches behind him to click the lock into place. He stares down at me, biting his lip as he shakes his head, unable to believe what he’s seeing.
“I need you to do a quick little spin. You know, give me the full three-sixty like those models do.” He chuckles.
“Oh, you want me to model for you?”
He raises his eyebrow, shrugging before he nods his head yes.
Reaching for his hand, I lead him down the hall toward my bedroom. He laces his fingers in mine, using his other hand to unbutton the front of his suit jacket. It’s a shame he doesn’t wear a suit and tie every day, even if he does look damn fine on the basketball court.
When we enter my room, he pauses to glance around the space. I know him well enough by now to recognize he’s using it to peel back another layer of who I am.
Leading him over to the foot of my bed, I push him until he’s reclined back on his elbows. His suit jacket falls open, and my eyes burn into him and the perfectly fitted dress shirt he’s wearing underneath.
I’m itching to get my hands on him, but I need to hold up my end of the deal and give him the full modeling experience.
Running my fingers through my hair, I toss my long locks over to the side, giving it a wild look. Turning so my back is facing him, I saunter along the hardwood floors of my bedroom, pausing to reach for the hem of the jersey, lifting it to show him the new orange panties I purchased recently. After the way his eyes lit up in my office at the sight of my red ones, I knew I needed to get a few more.
I’m glad I did. Seeing his nostrils flare and his jaw clench, gives me the reaction I had been hoping for. His eyes are laser-focused on my every move as I continue to turn so my back is facing him. Bending down, I loosen the strap of my heels and judging by the string of curse words he muttered, my little plan is working. Unhooking my shoe, I kick it off near my closet door, widening my stance before leaning over to my other foot and doing the same.
When I stand facing him, his fingers are pulling at his tie, loosening it.
