Big Dick Energy - Cindi Madsen Page 0,12

spun toward the door.

Don’t check out her ass, don’t check out her ass. “Wait.” Come on. You can do it. “That… My comment was…” As dangerous as that skirt, not that it was her job by any means to control where my gaze had gone, but I needed a moment to compose myself so I wouldn’t blurt out anything else that would bring about my own downfall. “Out of line.”

There. I’d done it. I’d lift my fist and request a bump if I didn’t think she’d leave me hanging.

“Sorry. You only get once chance at using your flashy-thingy, and you chose it at the bar.”

My inhale got snagged between my throat and epiglottis, leaving me fighting a cough. I wanted to bask in the fact that she recalled our conversation the other night as well as I did, but that might send us into rough waters again. “Technically, I never whipped it out.”

Her eyebrows arched so high they disappeared into her hairline. What the hell, mouth? We’d just agreed to avoid saying anything else improper.

“I did not think through how that’d sound. Let me rephrase… Perhaps I could use it right now, and we could start over.” This job meant being up close and personal with the bigwigs who ran the Pythons, as well as possibly meeting a few of my favorite players. Since the project was yet another thing I refused to lose, I needed to figure out a way to work with this woman who clearly wanted my head on a spike.

I extended my hand. “Hello. I’m Archer York, and I’m here to assist on drawing up plans for the new Pythons stadium. I’ve got a master’s in architecture and have worked and consulted on large commercial projects for the last seven years.”

She squinted, her suspicion clear. Then she crossed her arms, and I lowered my extended palm and focused on a spot over her shoulder so I wouldn’t give into my curiosity about whether or not it emphasized her cleavage. “Penelope Jones. I don’t need to justify my position with titles or my degree. I’ve worked here at BJB Architecture Firm for nearly five years and spent the last two months courting the Pythons in order to get a chance to design their new soccer complex.”

“What took you so long? The longest it’s ever taken me to win over clients is two weeks.”

As she spun to leave again, I reached out and snagged her shoulder.

“That was a joke. Doug mentioned several companies were courting the Pythons, and you’re the reason they picked this firm. I’m here to ensure the process goes smoothly, not to undo the work you’ve already done.”

The tiniest nod in the world got aimed my way. “Glad to hear it. As long as we remain professional and you realize I make final decisions, we shouldn’t have any further problems.”

So close to a truce, and yet I couldn’t take it. “As for final decisions, we’ll leave that up to the client. But with that caveat, you have yourself a deal.” I extended my hand again as a show of good faith, and she finally slipped her palm inside. I caught a whiff of her perfume, something exotic and floral that gave me thoughts that were the opposite of professional.

One firm shake that she seemed determined to outdo, gripping so hard it felt like we were in some twisted business version of a thumb war. Then she lowered her arm to her side. I glanced toward the windows and the skyscraper skyline as she pulled open the conference door.

But just as it was closing behind her, I snuck one last farewell peek through the glass at the sky-high heels that highlighted her legs and added extra oomph to her voluptuous backside.

“How are you settling in?” Doug asked as I took the leather chair opposite his desk. “Did everything go okay with Penny?”

It took me a second to realize who he meant, as I was fairly certain the HR woman had been named Denise. Penny suited the woman I thought I was meeting last weekend in the bar, but Penelope fit the actual person I’d spoken to far better.

And if by okay, he meant she hated me with a fiery passion and wanted to stab one of her sexy heels through my scrotum, then yeah, we were super-duper. But I’d never say that to him. “She’s smart and very organized.”

I ran my palms down my slacks. I’d always respected the direct approach, but I didn’t want to