“Come in,” she gestures. “I’ll call and then change my clothes. Where do you want to go?”
I think for a minute, trying to decide on somewhere I can get lost, somewhere I won’t stand out. “How about Navy Pier? We can find pretty much anything to do there. And we can get something to eat.”
“ ’K,” she answers, showing me to her tiny but neat living room while she punches a number into her phone. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As she talks to her boss, I look around. The space, like many Chicago houses and condos, is small. It’s neat, though, and she’s got it furnished with chic, eclectic furnishings. I’m guessing she saved up her paychecks for them because they’re quality pieces.
She hangs up the phone, staring at me cautiously. “Okay. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’ve called off. I’ll be ready in a minute.”
She disappears into her bedroom and I wait for exactly one minute, then follow.
Why? I don’t know. But I walk quietly into her doorway and stand there, watching as she bends in front of me.
Her slender back is bare as she bends to slide off her work shorts. Even though she isn’t very tall, she’s got the grace of a ballerina. Her thighs are long and slim, her calves perfectly shaped. Her skin is golden and smooth, and all of a sudden I just want to run my hands up the length of them, grip her ass hard enough to leave marks and…
“What the hell?” Jacey’s voice snaps me out of my fantasy.
I grin as she turns around, at her outraged expression as her hands cover her tits. I can still see them though, full and lush, as they spill around her hands, her pink nipples poking through her fingers.
“I told you I’d be ready in a minute. And by that, I meant to wait in the living room.”
She’s standing in front of me now, confident and sassy, her bare chest pushed out and her eyes snapping.
“Settle down,” I tell her. “I was just taking a tour of your house.” I scan the little bedroom with its black-and-white décor, then focus again on her. “I like your bedroom. It’s got nice scenery.”
And by nice scenery, I, of course, mean her tits.
She grits her teeth. “Get out of here. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I laugh and she glares at me, tucking her hands even more firmly around her chest, and I duck back out, dropping onto her sofa to wait. I entertain myself with my memory of her bare body until she comes out a few minutes later, dressed in short cutoffs and a tight white T-shirt.
“One question,” I request with a smirk.
She raises her eyebrow.
“Are you wearing panties now?”
Because she wasn’t before. An image of her bare ass bent over in front of me flashes through my head and sends the blood rushing to my dick.
Her cheeks explode into color, effectively answering my question, and she glares at me again.
“What prompted this?” she demands, ignoring my very valid question as she sits to strap on some weird strappy sandals that lace around her calves. “Why are you really here? This doesn’t seem like you. Except for the invading my bedroom part. That totally seems like you. But I’m sure you didn’t come all the way over here just to catch a glimpse of my ass.”
I stare at her thoughtfully.
“I don’t know. You’ve got a pretty nice ass.”
She stares at me, unfazed, and I grin.
“I don’t know, if you want the truth. I’m bored. I don’t want to hang out with Sin or Duncan and I like talking to you. You treat me like a normal person. And unlike my brother, you usually wear clothes. Although, if you feel taking your clothes off, I won’t complain.”
She ignores that part. “You are a normal person. My grandpa told me once that no one is better than me, that everyone is the same—some just have more important jobs. That’s why you don’t intimidate me… because you’re not better than me. And for the record, I kind of like talking to you, too. When you’re not snapping my head off, anyway. I like that you don’t bother blowing smoke up my ass about anything. You just tell me like it is.”
I nod. “That’s kind of how I am.”
“I like it, “she answers approvingly. “It’s refreshing.”
Which is ironic, since that’s exactly how I think of her.
Refreshing.
We walk outside and I open the passenger door of the Porsche for her and she slides in, her legs spreading before she tucks them into the car. I get a shot of her crotch up the leg of one of her shorts. That’s how short her shorts are, and it answers my earlier question.
She’s not wearing panties.
It sends my pulse racing, which annoys me.
This girl doesn’t affect me. It’s just that I’m bored and have nothing better to do. I’m killing time while I’m stuck in Chicago. Nothing more, nothing less.
As I grip the steering wheel and stare at the road, I decide that it’s a bad fucking thing when you have to try and convince yourself of something.
We find a parking spot in one of the garages and I pull a ball cap on, just as a precaution. I’m not as likely to get spotted here as I am in California, because no one is expecting to see me here. People are on celebrity high alert in Hollywood. But it doesn’t hurt to be careful.
We quickly lose ourselves in the crush of people on the pier, and as I push through them, I realize that I’ve lost Jacey. Looking back, I find that she’s just a few steps behind me.