face ached. “And I will. You can count on me, Ben.”
…
Joseph angled the screen of his laptop away from Jude’s view. She scowled at him from across the wide expanse of his desk. “Hey, I thought you were going to take me to lunch?”
“In a sec. Just have to check something.”
His sister let out a breath and flopped on the low, squishy couch that dominated his office. “Five minutes,” she warned, knowing full well his tendency to get distracted. “Then I’m gone.”
Joseph wasn’t listening. Telling himself he was only checking on some details for the E-Slate launch, he glanced down at the laptop. But of course he couldn’t help his attention sliding toward the chat window that was also, coincidentally, open.
The empty chat window.
Right. So Naughtygirl25 wasn’t online. Just as she hadn’t been online for the past three days. That was okay. More than okay. He hadn’t created his own profile just so he could check to see if she’d visited the chat room where he’d first met her. That would be ridiculous. Not to mention desperate.
But if she had been then she would have had some major explaining to do.
Since that night three days ago, she’d steadily taken over his thoughts like a species of fast-growing, beautiful vine. The incident in his bathroom haunted him and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. About the incredible chemistry that had ignited between them. About the way she’d lit up when he’d touched her, blazing with passion and heat and sensuality. About how he’d been like a sex-starved teenage boy, taking her without any niceties at all. Thank God there’d been a condom in the top drawer because even if there hadn’t been, he wasn’t at all sure he would have stopped.
Terrible behavior. He’d never acted like that before. Why had he responded to her so intensely? Why should the best sex of his life be with a woman whom—to be totally honest here—wasn’t his type in the slightest.
Perhaps it had been due to her response to him. So abandoned. Giving herself up to him with a hunger that had nearly stopped his heart. He’d loved that.
Except for the end when she’d rushed from the room and from his apartment as if the hounds of hell were on her tail. He’d tried to go after her, but dazed after the intensity of the orgasm that had ripped him apart, it had taken him a couple of moments to haul his jeans up and get himself moving. By then it was too late. He’d even gone down to the street to see where she’d gotten to but she’d vanished.
“Joe?”
Her sudden exit had made him feel like absolute crap. Made him wonder if she hadn’t wanted it after all. That perhaps he’d misinterpreted her signals and taken her against her will.
“Joe.”
No, it couldn’t have been that. Her arms had gone around his neck and she’d told him how good he’d made her feel. Then she’d wrapped her legs around his waist just like he’d been fantasizing since the moment he’d seen her, and the sound she’d made as he pushed inside her… She’d been so wet, ready for him. Yeah, she’d wanted him.
“Joe!”
Shit. Jude. He’d been zoning out again. “What?”
Jude looked long-suffering. “Lunch, remember?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Let’s go.” Cursing himself inwardly, Joseph closed down the chat window.
He had to stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about her. She was gone. In any case, even if he did want to see her again he didn’t know her name and had no way of contacting her apart from her chat handle. But he didn’t want to see her again. One night was enough. Any more than that and he ended up bored and restless, and that wasn’t fair. Not her fault he’d been built for casual, not permanent. That the ADHD didn’t allow him anything more, at least not without a fair amount of emotional heartache on both sides. No, these days he stuck to women who were after the same thing—no point in deliberately hurting someone.
Someone like Naughtygirl.
Yeah. Exactly.
They went to his favorite café, a tiny place down on the waterfront that had a view of the busy port—he did like to watch the container ships unloading. It gave him something concentrate on when he felt his focus slip.
“So,” he said as the waitress took their order. “The exhibition went well, huh?”
His sister pushed back the neat, black wings of her short, bobbed hair. “Yeah. It went really well. I sold at least twenty pictures.”
“Wow, that’s