The Man Who Has No Heart - Victoria Quinn Page 0,59

with every piece of her soul. She leaned in and kissed me on the mouth, her lips not moving, just resting against mine, but she held them forever, like she never wanted to pull away.

My hands slid to her cheek and gave it a squeeze. “Do you have plans this weekend?”

“No. But I hope I’m about to.”

“You do.”

She smiled, like she couldn’t wait to spend time with me. “I’ll mark my calendar.” She pushed the sheets down and got out of bed. She stood naked in her bedroom, her ass so perky it looked unreal, her pussy slightly visible because her cheeks were so high and plump. The rest of her was sexy too, the way her waist narrowed to an incredibly petite size, the way her legs were lean and toned, like a runner. Her brown hair hung down her back, and when she walked to the bathroom, her body shook in all the right places.

My dick was rock hard under the sheets, in a way it never was for my other evening guests. When the morning arrived, I was anxious for them to leave. I wished they would leave in the middle of the night, but that never happened. But now I wished Cleo would come back to bed with me—and blow everything off.

I skipped the office and worked from home. I was too tired to make the hour-long commute, and I could do pretty much everything at my dining table instead of my desk. Plus, I didn’t have to wear a suit in my own home.

Tucker texted me. Did you talk to her?

I stared at the message, unsure how to respond to it.

When I didn’t text back after thirty minutes, he texted me again. Don’t ignore me, asshole.

How did he know that? Yes. I talked to her.

And?

And we worked it out.

…

I stared at the screen.

That’s all you’re going to give me?

What do you want me to say?

Are you together? Did you fuck?

I didn’t like to talk about Cleo when we were just friends, and I definitely didn’t want to talk about her now. We’re together.

That’s awesome, man. I’m happy to hear that.

I dropped my guard when I remembered Tucker just wanted me to be happy. Thanks.

So…is her ass as good I imagined?

I turned angry again. Tucker.

Come on, you gotta tell me.

Ask me again, and I’ll put you on life support.

Fine…keep your secrets.

By the end of the day, I hadn’t seen Cleo.

I’d expected her to come by my condo at some point.

But she didn’t.

I assumed she was busy with work, so I didn’t bother her.

When dinnertime arrived, I lost my patience and texted her. I thought you would stop by sometime.

Her response was immediate. I’m still at the office. It’s been a long day.

Join me for dinner. It’d been a long and lonely month without her, so I wanted to be with her, talk to her, make up for the time we’d lost. I didn’t just want to take her to bed. I missed the other aspects of our relationship, the thing that made me fall for her in the first place.

I need thirty minutes.

That’s perfect timing. I went into the kitchen and prepared dinner, grilled chicken on a bed of rice with Brussels sprouts and asparagus. I’d just finished when there was a knock on the door.

“It’s open.”

Cleo stepped inside, dressed in the same outfit she’d put on that morning, an olive-green pencil skirt with a cream button-down shirt tucked into the waistband. Her five-inch heels were back on her feet, giving her the height that would make it much easier to kiss her than it was last night.

“Don’t knock.” I grabbed two plates and set them on the counter.

She walked across the hardwood floor, her heels echoing, and she stared at me, slightly bewildered by my order.

“Just come in.”

She came into the kitchen and joined me at the counter. “I don’t want to invade your privacy—”

“I don’t need privacy from you.” I turned off the burners and faced her, her eyes only slightly lower than mine because in those heels she was five-seven instead of five-two. Her makeup looked as fresh as when she put it on that morning, and her plump lips were a sexy shade of pink. Her blue eyes might be my favorite feature…because they held such kindness, such innocence. Everyone else in this city was riddled with scars, but she still had that small-town-girl quality.

She watched me, her eyes doing that thing I loved—when they relaxed, dropped slightly, filled with a little