Monica

“Maybe because I have a brother who’s deeply involved in real estate. Ethan is very wealthy, but he started with a place like this. Our stepfather loaned him the money to fix up a rundown building, and that’s how he started.”

“Yeah? That’s cool. To answer your question, I can’t work on this any time soon.”

“You have to act fast. If there’s interest in the area like you said, and you wait too long, then you’ll lose out. Someone else will get this space.”

“I don’t have the kind of money I need to purchase the property and then renovate, and I’m sure you see this place needs major work, so that ain’t happening no time soon.”

“You could get a loan.”

“I could also win the lottery,” he said sarcastically.

“Come on, Andre, you brought me here for a reason. You must be close.”

“In my dreams,” he muttered.

Her heart ached for him. “Do you already have a name?”

He grinned. “I do.”

“I knew it! What’s the name?” she asked, getting excited.

“NV Lounge. Spelled N-V.”

“Ohmigosh, I love it! Go. Get. Your. Loan.”

“It’s not that easy, Monica.”

“Nothing worth having comes easy. You have to work for it, Andre.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“How much money do you need?”

He stroked the tuft of hair on his chin. “Hell, I don’t know. I’m pulling together the information to write a business plan, but there are so many different kinds. The research alone is kicking my ass, and I’m screwed when it comes to actually writing the plan.”

She giggled. Writing wasn’t his strong suit. “Stop being cheap and pay someone to put it together for you. Outsource the tasks you don’t want to do. It’ll make your life so much easier.”

“Says the woman who’s a multi-millionaire and has a personal assistant.”

“And that’s how I know.”

He chuckled. “Okay, you’re right, and my cousin could probably help me. You might know a little something.”

“A little?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah. A little.” He held his thumb and forefinger less than a quarter inch apart.

“Whatever.” She smacked down his hand.

He caught her by the wrist. “Why you always hitting?”

“I do not!”

“Some things never change.”

His eyes scoured her face, and the air around them suddenly became restricted. His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist, over the interlocked hearts, and Monica felt each swipe all the way to her core.

Something scurried across her foot, and she jumped, bumping into Andre’s chest. “What the heck was that?”

A quick glance at the floor, and she saw a gray mouse disappear beneath a pile of beams.

“Ew! A mouse.” She shivered and turned her face into his chest.

His chest trembled with laughter. “It’s not the end of the world.”

She gazed up at him. “Did the mouse run across your foot? No. That was disgusting.”

“I better get you out of here, then.”

Instead of moving, the hand not holding her wrist slipped to her back.

“Damn, you’re so soft,” Andre whispered, spreading his fingers over her skin.

Monica pulled back, not because she didn’t want his touch but because she recognized the danger ahead. The fingers around her wrist held her fast, and his arm tightened around her, dropping low on her back, right above her ass. She held her breath.

His other hand gently ran up and down her bare arm. “Some things really never change,” he said, keeping his voice low.

The mouse, the dusty interior of the warehouse—the entire environment was forgotten as his head lowered to hers. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted him to kiss her until their lips touched. The kiss was explosive, feverish, forcing a loud whimper from her throat. Her lips trembled beneath his, and her hand reached up to cup his cheek.

The heat from the sun was no match for the heat radiating around them, engulfing them in scorching hunger. She explored his body—his broad shoulders, the muscular biceps of his arms, his chest and face, his head. She touched him everywhere, locked into a deep, frantic kiss.

She needed him. Ached for him. Nothing else mattered in that moment but having more of Andre. His kisses covered her temple, her cheeks, all the way down to the base of her neck. Her head tipped back so he could explore her throat, his breath coming in harsh spurts as he sucked and kissed her sensitive skin.

“Andre,” she moaned, voice thick and pleading.

Next thing she knew, her feet were off the ground, and her legs wrapped around his waist. He hadn’t lifted her so much as she had climbed him. Long-fingered hands held her thighs in a possessive grip, his right hand sliding beneath the opening of her romper to cup her left butt cheek. With her arms locked around Andre’s neck, she clung to him and enjoyed every caress and kiss. She could barely breathe, suffocating with unbridled desire as she ground her hips against him for relief.

His hard length pressed against her with urgency. As he plundered her mouth in a demanding kiss, she ached for him to plunder her body. She wanted his thick lips to do impossibly nasty things between her thighs, and she didn’t care if he threw her down on the filthy floor and f*cked her. She would take him any way she could to ease the terrible, torturous ache.

Then, out of nowhere, an interruption. Disoriented by lust, she didn’t understand what was happening at first, but they were pressed so closely together the phone in his pocket vibrated against her inner thigh. Andre groaned and tore his mouth from hers, and Monica took two deep gulps of air to bring her breathing under control.

She swallowed hard, her body throbbing from the pleasure of feeling him against her, one warm hand roaming freely over her skin in decadent caresses.

She lowered to her feet, and he lifted the phone from his pocket. His face fell, and he turned sideways and answered.

“Hello?” Andre swiped a hand across his mouth. “What are you doing there?” Pause. “No, I’m at lunch… with a client.” His gaze met hers, and she knew right away he was talking to Belinda.