More Than Want You - Page 38/79

“I’m still not sleeping with him.”

Please don’t. “Totally understand. I just need you to tempt him a little.”

She nods nervously. “I hope this mission doesn’t require more.”

 

On Monday afternoon, I cut the workday short. Rob and Britta finally camped onto my way of thinking about the Stowe estate, so they’re plunging headfirst into what my assistant likes to call a more elegant strategy. A nice way of saying we’re going to strip this bitch down and focus on showcasing her tits. Sorry, her breastsss.

They’re brainstorming so hard I’m half expecting a tornado to take out the office before I leave and head back to the condo. Sure enough, when I arrive, Keeley is there with an iPad hooked up to a portable speaker. It takes me a minute to realize she’s YouTubing karaoke music and singing the hell out of a Katy Perry ballad.

I watch her and let that sweet, velvet voice caress my eardrums. Every note resonates with something that feels a lot like heartbreak. I want to touch her.

When she cries out for the final time that she’s “Wide Awake,” she turns off the tablet, then spins around for her bottle of water and spots me in the entry. She presses a hand to her chest with a gasp.

I swallow my tongue because she’s wearing a bikini top that barely holds her in and some of the tightest yoga pants I’ve ever seen. A glance at her ass tells me she’s undoubtedly commando.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” She looks away in embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you for a few hours.”

“We’ve got an appointment tonight. Makeover phase one is about to begin.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t look thrilled. “What about dinner?”

“We’ll get it while we’re out.” I grab her hand, glad when she doesn’t resist. “It’s regrettable that you need to throw on a bra and panties, but you’d start a public riot wearing what you’ve got on. Oh, and choose clothes easy to slip off.”

“You are not seducing me, Maxon Reed.” She wags a finger at me.

Maybe not in the next five minutes, but soon. At the very least, I need to remind her which brother she met first before I send her off to derail Griff.

“It’s nothing like that,” I tell her innocently.

She doesn’t look as if she really believes me, but she disappears into her room. A few minutes later, she emerges in a pair of khaki shorts, a pretty crisscross blouse in some blue-green color that does amazing things for her eyes, and a pair of beige heels with studded straps around her ankles that attach to a matching band across her toes via a slinky gold chain. If shoes ever said “fuck me,” it was these.

I almost swallow my tongue.

The trip down to my car is an exercise in restraint. I want to adjust my dick in my ever-tightening pants so badly it’s driving me mad.

When I get Keeley settled, I manage to move my zipper so it feels less like a tourniquet for my cock, and we drive down the road to an outdoor shopping center to grab a nice steak. It’s so awesome to spend time with a girl who likes her meat. (Yeah, I went there.) Afterward, I take her hand and we stroll a few doors down.

“You going to tell me where we’re going?”

“And end your curious squirming?” I give her a mock frown. “Why would I do that?”

She pulls free. “You’re mean.”

I just grin. “It’s one of my better qualities.”

“Says you.” She scowls.

“Well, yeah. My opinion is the only one that counts,” I tease. “At least tonight.”

I expect Keeley to have strong thoughts about what we do in the next hour or two, but I know my brother, so this is my show. She needs to listen when I tell her something will drive Griff crazy with lust.

I shove aside the reality that he will check her out like a slab of meat. But he will. It pisses me off, too. Keeley is way more than that. Will he love her singing? Will he care that she’s a damn good cook? Will he even bother to notice how funny she is? If he’s going to treat her like a pig—

I stop the thought cold. Maybe that’s better for me. Maybe…after this stupid pissing match with my brother is at an end, Keeley and I can try something more than being each other’s one-night stand or partner in crime. Maybe we could actually date. Or try a relationship. Yeah. I feel safe with her. Okay, that sounds fairly stupid because obviously she’s not the sort who will take a tire iron to my face. But I mean I feel as if I can be myself with her and she accepts me. That’s pretty epic. Certainly not the way my sentence—sorry, commitment—with Tiffanii worked.

“Stop with the hints and spill it. What are we doing tonight?”

She can’t stand not knowing. It’s kind of nice having the upper hand for two seconds. As clever as Keeley is, I don’t expect it to last.

“You can’t worm it out of me,” I vow. “Unless you want to make me lewd sexual promises you’ll absolutely fulfill later.”

“Nope. You know the rules.”

“Your rules,” I point out. “And they suck.”

Beside me, she shakes her head like I’m an idiot. “You can’t have it both ways. I’m either with you or with your brother. This is your call.”

“Can’t you be with me while pretending to be with my brother?” I’m actually serious now. “I don’t understand.”

She gives me a sad smile. “The fact that you don’t reminds me of all the reasons I have to say no. So I guess we’re at a standoff. Neither of us is giving in.”

“Ugh. I miss girls who act stupid.”

She turns to me, her expression a warning that she better not have heard me right. “What?”

“You know what I mean. You’re twisting my balls until they’re fucking blue. At least other girls pretended to be dumb so I could talk them into raunchy acts that would make everyone but a porn star blush. Well, maybe a few of them, too. But you…” I sigh. “All brains and ethics and doing things right. I’m not used to that.”

Keeley laughs at me like she can’t do anything else. “Poor baby. And now I’m making your life miserable.”

“Yeah.”

“Because I won’t be your quick, conscienceless lay.”

“Something like that.” But there’s more.