Page 69 of Seductive Scoundrel

Her toned arms…that squeeze me impossibly hard when she’s about to come.

Her luscious lips…that look sexy as hell wrapped around my dick.

Her full, pert breasts…that I’ve had in my hands and mouth.

Her gorgeous dark hair framing a stunning face that I simply can’t get enough of.

Jesus.

“It’s too bad you aren't staying onboard permanently,” Jim says. “These are all phenomenal ideas.”

Well, at least Mia isn’t distracting me enough to turn me into a chump. I’m still not calling her, though. Life is too short to spend with someone who lies. I always have to watch my back in the business world because you don’t rise to where I am on the totem pole by being nice. And there is always someone vying to take my place.

I refuse to watch my back in my personal life. I need somewhere to let my guard down, and I thought that could be with Mia.

But then again, it’s not like she told a major lie. She pretended to be April, sure, but only so far as how we met. She didn’t take on a pretend life or lie about anything else. Everyone makes mistakes and I know her. The real her.

I re-read her note and run my fingertips over her signature.

I miss you. I’m sorry. Can we talk?

It goes against every instinct I have, but the shitty thing is that I miss her right back.

* * *

The next daybrings another wrapped box. My girl is nothing if not persistent.

Ex-girl. Do I have an ex-girlfriend now? Everything with Mia was such a whirlwind that my brain is still trying to catch up to the fact that she got under my skin enough to change everything.

This box has two Mr. Big bars and immediately makes me smile. But it’s her note that has me laughing inappropriately on a conference call with my new insurance team.

If you tape the two together, the size looks about right. I would know.

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach...Or worshipping his cock. Yeah, preferably the latter.

“I was serious. We put a ton of research into this process map, and we can deliver a comprehensive quote to customers in 30 seconds. That’s industry-leading.”

Shit.

“I apologize. Something took my attention for a moment. Run me through the customer lifecycle again, and I’ll make a more worthwhile comment.”

Work was supposed to distract me from Mia, not the other way around. I’m tempted to reach out and say thank you for the gifts because, well, that’s just how I was raised. But it would only get her hopes up, and I’ve already made my decision.

At least, I thought that I did. Apparently, matters of the heart are more complicated than business.

I guess those bullshit ballads on the radio know what they’re talking about after all.

* * *

The next weekbrings more gifts: vibrant orange tiger lilies in a monochromatic vase mark the first time a woman has ever sent me flowers and I don’t hate it. A package of what Mia called pillow chocolates from the hotel in Florida, a pair of Sax underwear, lunch from my favorite bodega, and the climax on Friday: cuff links that are way outside of her price range with a written invitation:

Meet me at my place on Sunday? We can redo our movie night. The last time kind of sucked.

It’s tempting. And it couldn’t hurt to have a conversation and get a better sense of where her head was at when she was lying, but I know we’d fall back into bed.

And then what?

How do we pick up where we left off when I’m not even sure what we were doing? Can we go back to being fuck buddies when that’s never what it’s actually been for us? Or do we agree to... start dating?

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