Page 48 of Sweet Lies

In the stillness, it’s easy to hear his approach.

“We’re closed,” I point out, not removing my gaze from the papers I hold. I don’t have time for Andre’s grin and twinkling eyes. He needs to be gone, like the rest of the patrons.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be with your winnings? A strip club, perhaps.”

He laughs, and I despise the fact my stomach swishes in pleasure at the sound.

“It would have to be a hell of a strip club. Maybe that should be your next business venture.”

Rolling my eyes, I state, “Oh yes. I’ll get rid of the blackjack tables and put in a pole.”

“Ones add up,” he points out. “I’d say I love what you’ve done with the place, but it looks like your boss never left.”

“I added the plants in the corner,” I reply.

I hate to admit it, but he’s correct. Not much has changed since I took over. It’s not like I could have family pictures on the wall.In fact, the disorder is driving me nuts, but I’ve got bigger issues than organizing.

“That does scream Bec,” he answers, coming farther into the room.

The door closing makes me lift my gaze from the numbers on the page.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, annoyed. In reality, closing the door is giving me ideas I don’t need or want.

Liar, my mind whispers.

Shut it! I yell back, hoping to silence that small voice that gets loud when it’s around Andre.

“I thought it was obvious?”

“Nothing you ever do is obvious,” I murmur as he draws closer.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I thought it obvious,” I shoot back.

His lips curve at the sides as he sits on the edge of my desk on top of papers and folders. I attempt to pull a folder out from under him.

“That’s your hint,” I say, not meeting his eyes.

“Never been good at taking those.”

My smile slips into place before I can stop it. “No shit.”

Leaning back in my chair, I release the edge of the folder. “I’m not helping you,” I state.

“That was business. We can talk about that in the morning.”

“If that was business, what is this?” I ask, swallowing as my mouth goes dry.

His voice is smooth when he responds. “Pleasure.”

Bursting out laughing, I stand. “Does that work for you often?” I ask. “Or do you rely more on the bad-boy thing?”

He laughs too, then stands up and slides behind me, his hands running over my arms. I hate that I lean back. It’s been a while since, well, anything. I get offers every night but nothing I take seriously.

“What…what are you doing?”

He moves my hair away from my neck. His fingers dance over my skin in soft circles before being replaced by his lips. I’m so distracted, I almost don’t notice when his right hand moves to my stomach and pulls me closer.

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