Not Just Friends (Hot in the City #3) - T. Gephart Page 0,50
before, not really concerned about cuddling. And if I hadn’t already been a fan, I’d become a full-blown convert when she took her turn waking me. My cock between her pretty pink lips, a sight I’d never get sick of.
After more sex, because clearly we were fiends, we showered—separately—and then got dressed. I’d been more organized and packed an overnight bag, meaning I didn’t have to head home to get a fresh set of clothes.
“You want to go get something to eat?” I asked, last night’s dinner a distant memory. “I know you don’t do breakfast, but surely it would count as lunch.” I checked my watch, the display showing just past noon.
“I have a meeting at Diablo and can’t be late. It’s an important client. But if you want to go get something and then meet me later, I don’t mind.”
Not sure what she was thinking but me leaving after having not seen her for an entire day wasn’t happening. I didn’t care when or where we ate, committed to spending as much time with her as possible. It was like a sickness, the need to be near her probably not very healthy, but I was far from wanting a cure.
“Or I can drive you to your meeting and then go get us something for when you’re done,” I suggested, positive at some point she was going to have to eat. “Unless you don’t want me cramping your style.”
She rolled her eyes, grabbing me by the T-shirt and pulling me closer. “Just kiss me already, you moron. You could never cramp my style.”
With our plans set we got into my car and drove to Diablo. Traffic was average, not taking us long to cover the couple of blocks between her loft and the club.
“So you’re going to get lunch?” She looked at me with excitement, her hand hovering on the door handle. “Or was that just a ploy to come creep on me at work? Because I have to say if you’re using food as a bargaining chip, that is not cool.”
I scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Oh, so I see how it is. You’re just with me for the services I can provide. Last time I checked, I didn’t turn into Uber Eats, Presley.”
“I know, I know, I’m terrible. But I get cranky when I’m hungry. You don’t want me to be cranky, do you?”
Just one look at those big brown eyes and I’d do pretty much anything she asked. Go get lunch, drive to Utah, get a tattoo on my ass of Diablo’s logo. She had to know the kind of power those babies wielded, willing to put myself through epic-level shit just to make her happy. “Fine, I’ll walk you in and make sure Bennett is around, then I’ll go get us lunch. You have a preference?”
“Anything, just no burgers. Proper food, okay? We can eat in my office when you get back.”
Agreeing to get her proper food, I walked her to the door and waited as she unlocked it. We walked in, the place completely deserted except for a guy at the bar restocking.
“Hey Boss.” He lifted his hand and waved. “Need anything?”
“All good, Hank, thanks.”
It was obvious the staff loved her, something I’d seen whenever I walked through the doors. Every single one of them would volunteer to drop what they were doing if she needed something, just like Hank had offered to do. It was similar to what I had at the stationhouse with the guys, the sense of family that elevated what I did from just being a job. And I liked she had that too, albeit with a different pecking order.
“You doing an inspection? I think you’ll find we’re up to code.” Bennett didn’t bother with the hello, materializing from thin air before folding his arms across his chest. He really was an agile son of a bitch. Something else to be glad about, especially since one of his jobs was to protect Presley.
“Just dropping Presley off, I’ll be back soon.” I tipped my chin, knowing he was probably expecting some pushback. “You want some lunch?”
It would have been easy to get into a pissing contest, to try and assert which of us had more of a right to be there. I was almost positive he was more than a little territorial, and that extended to Presley as well. Didn’t make me feel good to know he might’ve had designs on her. For all I knew, he was looking for the