Mr. Imperfect - By Savannah Wilde Page 0,110

way I’d make our first time in a storage closet. Not a chance. The first time should be—”

“Oh, please,” Chloe interrupted, her New York accent pronounced and distinctly unimpressed. “You can make slow, sweet love to her any other day of the week. But today’s the day you can make Rori scream and sweat in a side room, while her uptight mom and the over-age asshole she supposed to marry make banal and proper conversation just a few feet away. I promise you, she’s going to fucking love it.”

Chloe’s reasoning was equal parts shocking and effective, and Mike could no longer deny that his body was reacting to it.

“I say go for standing up, based on that sculpture over there,” Chloe added, still somehow sounding bored. “She sculpted that couple doing it standing up, which means that’s where her head was at when she made it. Hot, heavy, and in too much of a hurry to make it to a bed. That’s what she wants from her man.”

“Chloe,” Mike groaned. “Seriously, stop it. You’re killing me.”

“No,” she said, splaying her fingers across his chest. “I’m getting you in the right head space to make a very smart decision by not letting the woman you love become the trophy wife of a man who had two prostitutes in his room last night. He’s just as likely to give her a venereal disease as he is to get her pregnant. It’s fucking sick, so you’ve got to man up and sleep with her first. Tonight. During the art show. In that side room.”

Mike’s mind was so busy picturing exactly that, that he almost missed how specific Chloe’s instructions were.

“Is that your bet?” he asked. “That Rori and I will do it tonight in a side room while everything is going on?”

She shrugged, sliding his hands down his arms and weaving her fingers between his playfully. “You put money on vague bets and you have to share the pot with others. Bet big or go home, I say.”

“And what’s the pot at?” he had to ask something to try to distract himself from the hand play she was currently engaging in. Even if she didn’t mean it, she was really, really good at it.

“Four hundred and climbing, last I heard. Enough to buy mama a new pair of shoes.”

Mike laughed again. He couldn’t help it. “You are a handful. Tell me you have a boyfriend.”

“Hell yeah, I do,” she said even as she gave his finger a light bite. “He’s the luckiest man alive and jealous as hell, so don’t think I’ll be finishing what I’m starting here. There’s only one man I let drill me in that side room, and he ain’t you. No offense, but ink is my turn on and you don’t have any. You hard yet?”

“Closer than I want to be,” was all Mike could say.

Chloe smiled. “Good. You’re cute when you blush, you know that?”

“I need to go,” Mike said, but as he stepped away, Chloe used his motion to make it look like he was pulling her after him.

“You need to stay,” she said like a stern teacher, her grip firming up and her expression unflinching. “I really want those shoes, Mike. Just wait until Rori comes over here and give it a try. For me. If she shuts you down and sends you on your way then you can take the kiddies to the pool without a cross look from me.” She stepped in closer. Close enough that he could feel her body heat. “But at least give Junior a shot at a trip to heaven first. It’s only fair for everyone involved.”

Only fair. Sure. Chloe was totally insane. The trouble was, Mike was listening to her.

Mike cleared his throat. “If your plan hinges on Rori coming over here, then I’m sorry to inform you—”

Mid-sentence Mike’s jacket hit him right in the face as an ice-cold voice said. “Get the fuck out.”

Mike had never heard that exact tone before, but he knew the voice. Most definitely Rori’s.

“Pack up your equipment and get the hell out of my show,” she said.

“Hmmm,” Chloe cooed softly in his ear, out of Rori’s earshot. “She brought up fucking and your equipment back-to-back. My work here is done.”

Then she was gone. Mike could have killed her.

“Rori, that wasn’t what it—”

“Do not insult my intelligence,” Rori sneered, voice shaking a bit this time. “Just pack up and get out. I will not have you turn my event into your sexual sideshow.”

“Sideshow?” he

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024