Addiction

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

He woke feeling groggy and grouchy and drank two cups of coffee before he felt alert enough to not slip and kill himself in the shower. As he dried himself off and pulled on his slacks, he wondered what Sophie had thought of his reply to her joke text. She had asked, and he'd simply answered with the truth. Although, he was aware that he hadn't replied in the same tone as the question. Sophie always said she was wearing Chanel, but he'd seen the sheep-patterned pj's she threw on before bed. Chanel and pj's maybe, he chuckled.

He had a business meeting before lunch, so he grabbed a snack to eat in the office – granola bars and fruit. He could always send his assistant out for sandwiches later, but in the mean time he had to get to the office and clear away the plans he'd left strewn all over his desk, and get some paperwork done.

Sliding into his car, he was again reminded of crazy Emily and her penchant for breaking things when she didn't get what she wanted. He hadn't been totally honest with Sophie about the whole break-up – true, the s*x had been especially kinky, but that wasn't the reason he'd told her things were off. She'd wanted more than he could offer – he could always tell when a woman was getting serious by how much effort she put in to inviting him places and asking his future plans. He couldn't offer anyone more than a night or two of passion. A week, at most.

The cold January air whirled about the inside of his silver Boxter as he drove the short distance to his office in town. He sure hoped he could find the time to take it to the shop after lunch. If he'd wanted to feel the air in his hair he'd have lowered the soft-top in order to do so. January was not the month to fly around a coastal town with the wind in his hair – it was in real danger of snapping off, as he parked up and locked his car.

The idea of him locking the car suddenly struck him as absurd, with a gaping hole in the windscreen, but he did it nonetheless. Sara was already at her desk when he arrived inside, shaking the coat from his shoulders. She'd been giving him the wandering eye lately, and he was beginning to think a change of assistant was in order – someone older, less prone to flights of fancy, say. She was pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way, but as far as he was concerned, she could look like a bag of hammers so long as she could do her job.

His phone buzzed.

G'mornin' stepbrother, mine.

Gd morning 2 u 2. What u lookin for?

U know what I want.

He could guess. A good kissing being a start. If he concentrated hard – which he refused to do – he could still conjure the taste of her mouth. Pizza and popcorn. Damn, he hadn't meant to concentrate on it. He felt himself grow hard as he sat behind his desk. He jumped as his phone vibrated again, the noise increasing as it made its way across his leather blotter.

Tell me.

What?

Ur plans.

Don't have any. Scout's honor.

U were never a boyscout.

I was as good as.

Yeah, yeah. Tell sum1 who believes U.

He laughed, scrubbing a hand across his mouth, and replied with, how's work?

Same ole, same ole

Now u sound like me. I swear I have no plans. I've gotta work. Chat later gator.

In a while, crocodile.

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