Page 98 of Idle

A moan tears from the back of his throat. “And neither are you. Now let’s focus here.” His powerful arms lift me and I guide him into my body, eliciting a soft mewl from me and a louder groan from him.

In this position, he hits my clit at the exact right angle to spiral me out of control with only a few thrusts. He stops for a minute to allow me to collect my wits, then stands up while we’re still intimately connected. Holding my hips in place, he strides forward until my back connects with the wall. He pounds into my body.

With my legs wrapped around his torso, I can do little more than hold onto this amazing man. “Oh. My. God. Yes!”

With a sinfully sexy snicker, he says, “More to come.”

He clamps down on my nipple, which zaps directly to my core, prompting a long moan from my soul. His thrusts continue. Face contorted with exertion and pleasure, he brings us both up the ladder toward our ultimate goal.

My body responds to his every movement as if he were in control of the orchestra buzzing inside me. Which he is. When he twists his hips, he grazes my clit and my head bangs against the wall. “Yes! Jesse, yes!”

He repeats his actions once more and a thrill only he can give explodes throughout my body. I clench around him, both inside my body and out, screaming his name in an everlasting torrent. As soon as I let go, he stills, then the chords on his neck become more pronounced as he empties himself inside me with a loud roar.

Sweat dripping down our bodies, we remain against the wall for as long as it takes for our breathing to even out. He kisses me. “You are amazing, Miss Hansen.”

“You’re not too shabby either, Mr. Dimon.”

He takes a tentative step back and I unlock my ankles. When we’re two separate beings again, he leads me to his bed. Where we repeat this act in so many different ways, all night long.

* * *

Jesse helps me put the finishing touches on the staging of the first High Line apartment remodel we purchased five months ago. I smooth my Max Mara pantsuit. I chose this latte color to match his amazing eyes and wasn’t disappointed this morning when he first saw me in it. He was careful when he removed it so as not to rip off any of the buttons, too.

With a fist to the final throw pillow on the sofa he designed as a prototype for our Arch Pointe Furniture partnership, I declare, “Done!”

“We did it!” He scoops me off the floor and twirls me in his strong arms. Our mouths fuse in a celebratory kiss.

Returning me to the floor, he says, “This looks fantastic. I bet buyers will be climbing over themselves to scoop it up.”

I tuck my short hair behind my ear. “I hope so. I employed every trick I learned in my real estate course to drive up interest.” I’m the proud owner of a brand-new real estate license.

“All your hard work will pay off today, I’m sure.” He kisses my cheek. “Now, I’m going to leave you to your open house, while I review some designs for Arch Pointe. I’m sure you’ll be amazing today. All I want is three offers by the time we meet up tonight, alright?”

I giggle at his optimism. “I’d love that, but let’s be realistic here. It usually takes days, if not weeks, for a buyer to make an offer.” That’s what my textbooks said. “I’ll be happy if three couples even show up today.”

He winks. “I have faith in you. Meet you at the wine bar in Hudson Yards when you’re done here.”

Alone in the apartment, I review each room to ensure it looks the best possible. The kitchen where we gutted everything and reorganized the workspace toward the windows. The dining room with a cozy fireplace. The family room with the amazing accent wall and millwork. Not to mention the faux-coffered ceilings. I enter the bedroom, and a blush prickles my cheek. Hope the new owners have as much fun in here as Jesse and I did. A smile plays around my lips.

Once I’m sure the apartment is ready, I put out the signs and balloons and return to the kitchen to take out the freshly baked cookies. These do double-duty—perfume the air as well as make a wonderful gift to people attending today’s open house. Once I ensure all the lights are on, I spread out my brochures highlighting the apartment’s many features. I’m ready.

Someone knocks on the door, I invite them in, and give them the spiel about the apartment. No sooner do I close the door, then someone else knocks. This scene repeats during the entire four hours. When the last potential buyer leaves, I collapse onto Jesse’s sofa.

We did it! My first open house was a huge success. I lost track of how many people told me they were interested in the building and our apartment. Realizing I haven’t been on my phone at all, I click on it and see twenty-two missed messages. I bet they’re all from Jesse and my family. Smiling, I open the messenger app and I’m right. Jesse sent a couple, as did Theo and Xander—and their fiancées—plus Kiefer and Ryder. Chloe too.

As did seven people who came today.

I sit upright.Holy shit. Inhaling, I open each of the messages. Each one—EACH ONE!—put in a bid. Unable to contain myself, I leap up and do a jig. We can do this. My dream is turning into a reality. Given their bids, my financial projections were low. Way low.

Strapping my purse over my shoulder, I lock up and leave the building, turning left toward the Hudson Yards Shops. Inside the mall, I go up to the wine bar, where Jesse’s sitting at the counter, two glasses in front of him. I slip onto the stool next to him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

His broad smile warms my heart. He doesn’t even know my good news yet. “Hello, gorgeous.” He hands me my glass of bubbly. “Got us some champagne. We have a lot to celebrate.”

More than he knows. “We do.” Clinking our glasses, I allow the effervescence to bounce down my throat. “How’d your day go?”

“Great. I’m pleased with all the designs, and looking forward to meeting with Arch Pointe’s marketing team to go over the finer points for the launch.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” I kiss his cheek.

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