Vicki Thompson Lewis

After Hours


Скачать книгу

no telling how far he might go.”

      “True.” That had been another thing bothering Eileen. She would hate being a politician’s wife, and Benjamin had hinted he had those ambitions. She hadn’t said how that idea affected her, because unless they were living together, she really shouldn’t offer an opinion.

      “Well, your father’s finishing up his exercises, so he’ll be back in the kitchen any minute. What would you like for dinner tomorrow night?”

      “I’m sorry, but I can’t make it, after all. Something’s come up.” She controlled a giggle. Something had come up, all right. And she could hardly wait to watch it come up again.

      “That’s okay. We can move it to Friday night. I know Benjamin won’t be back until Saturday, and I hate to think of you eating alone so much.”

      Eileen had a sudden insight. Her mother wanted her to get married so she’d have company. Apparently she thought Eileen couldn’t possibly be happy living alone, because her mother wouldn’t want that for herself. “Friday night won’t work, either.”

      “Oh? Why not?”

      She couldn’t believe she was really clearing her calendar for fantasy sex with Shane. “I have a big project I’m working on, and I need to devote my evenings to it so I’ll be finished by the time Benjamin gets home.” There. That was the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if she hadn’t offered any details.

      “Oh, sweetie, I can see that Benjamin’s rubbing off on you. You’ll be a partner before you know it, with that attitude.”

      Now she felt guilty for deliberately misleading her mom. “I’m not sure about that. But I do need to concentrate on this project.” And after that I’ll be the model daughter you always dreamed of. I promise.

      “That’s fine, sweetie. We’ll plan to have you and Benjamin over next week. How’s that?”

      “Perfect.” Benjamin loved going to her parents’ house. Her mom treated him like royalty. Eileen found it kind of sickening, but Suz and Courtney constantly reminded her that if your parents liked your boyfriend, that was a huge plus.

      “Here comes your father. Gotta go. Bye-bye.” The line went dead.

      Eileen put the receiver back in its cradle and stared at the phone. Everybody, even Suz and Courtney, thought she was so lucky to have the attention of a man like Benjamin, a guy who might even be the frigging president some day, and who wouldn’t be excited about that?

      Eileen felt like the one out of step, the one who must be seeing things wrong. But once she had a chance to take all Shane had to offer for the next three nights, she’d probably be cured. It would be like the experiment she, Suz and Courtney had conducted last year, to eat nothing but gooey doughnuts for two whole days so they’d never want another one.

      That had sort of worked. The craving had gone away for a long time, but now it was creeping back, at least for Eileen. Last week she’d almost bought a raised glazed. Three, instead of two days of doughnuts might have done the trick though, and she was looking at three solid nights of sex. She’d never had that much sex in her life. By Saturday, she’d be totally sick of rooftop rendezvous plans and whatever else Shane might come up with.

      She wasn’t sick of it yet, though. Not even slightly.

      THE WHOLE DAY Shane was juggling his work and trying to get an available rooftop, he kept thinking about prom night. He’d had this kind of anticipation then, too. He’d lost his virginity on prom night to a girl who’d also been a blonde. They’d gone steady after that, and, like a lot of seventeen-year-olds, Shane had thought having sex on a regular basis meant you were in love.

      When she’d gone off to college in California and met somebody else, he’d discovered it hadn’t been love, after all. He didn’t kid himself that he’d fallen in love with Eileen, either. But the possibility was there, given enough time. She’d be easy to fall for.

      He could already picture taking her home to meet his folks and how excited they’d be for him. Work had kept him from his family, too, and he wanted that to change. With Eileen in the picture, all things seemed possible.

      Anticipation hung in the air as he sat in the no parking zone outside her building at five minutes to six. For the second night in a row he’d turned off his cell and his pager. Yes, he felt twinges of guilt and wondered if he’d lose any customers. George Ullman had sounded a little brusque this morning when Shane had called him back.

      But he forgot all about his customers when Eileen came through the glass door in her professional little black suit. His usually calm heart started beating the bongos. God, she was beautiful, her cascade of blond hair gleaming in the late afternoon sun. With her sunglasses on and her briefcase slung over her shoulder, she looked every inch a lawyer.

      But as she walked toward his van, he thought he detected an extra little jiggle under her jacket. If she’d done it, if she’d really come on this date without underwear, he might fall in love with her tonight. He grinned. A guy would be insane not to fall in love with a woman who would take him up on such a suggestion.

      He jumped out of the van and came around to open the door for her. “Hi.”

      “Hi, yourself.” She smiled at him and set her briefcase and purse on the floor of the van.

      He caught a whiff of her orange blossom perfume as he helped her up into the van, and, bam, he started getting hard. “I didn’t think about your car,” he said. “Is it okay to leave it in the parking garage? I’ll pay the extra charge.”

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4AAQSkZJRgABAgEAYABgAAD/4Q9IRXhpZgAATU0AKgAAAAgABwESAAMAAAABAAEAAAEaAAUA AAABAAAAYgEbAAUAAAABAAAAagEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAExAAIAAAAUAAAAcgEyAAIAAAAUAAAAhodp AAQAAAABAAAAnAAAAMgAAABgAAAAAQAAAGAAAAABQWRvYmUgUGhvdG9zaG9wIDcuMAAyMDEzOjEw OjIyIDA3OjQyOjI0AAAAAAOgAQADAAAAAQABAACgAgAEAAAAAQAAAfSgAwAEAAAAAQAAAxsAAAAA AAAABgEDAAMAAAABAAYAAAEaAAUAAAABAAABFgEbAAUAAAABAAABHgEoAAMAAAABAAIAAAIBAAQA AAABAAABJgICAAQAAAABAAAOGgAAAAAAAABIAAAAAQAAAEgAAAAB/9j/4AAQSkZJRgABAgEASABI AAD/7QAMQWRvYmVfQ00AAf/uAA5BZG9iZQBkgAAAAAH/2wCEAAwICAgJCAwJCQwRCwoLERUPDAwP FRgTExUTExgRDAwMDAwMEQwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwBDQsLDQ4NEA4OEBQO Dg4UFA4ODg4UEQwMDAwMEREMDAwMDAwRDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDAwMDP/AABEI AIAAUQMBIgACEQEDEQH/3QAEAAb/xAE/AAABBQEBAQEBAQAAAAAAAAADAAECBAUGBwgJCgsBAAEF AQEBAQEBAAAAAAAAAAEAAgMEBQYHCAkKCxAAAQQBAwIEAgUHBggFAwwzAQACEQMEIRIxBUFRYRMi cYEyBhSRobFCIyQVUsFiMzRygtFDByWSU/Dh8WNzNRaisoMmRJNUZEXCo3Q2F9JV4mXys4TD03Xj 80YnlKSFtJXE1OT0pbXF1eX1VmZ2hpamtsbW5vY3R1dnd4eXp7fH1+f3EQACAgECBAQDBAUGBwcG BTUBAAIRAyExEgRBUWFxIhMFMoGRFKGxQiPBUtHwMyRi4XKCkkNTFWNzNPElBhaisoMHJjXC0kST VKMXZEVVNnRl4vKzhMPTdePzRpSkhbSVxNTk9KW1xdXl9VZmdoaWprbG1ub2JzdHV2d3h5ent8f/ 2gAMAwEAAhEDEQA/AO8wK27R8FfDGws7CtaGjnhXXZNbR7jtPmqmOQIbWUS4lPACq5OTTQzda4NB 48T8EO7Pb6gbwCJmRC4zqnWbLL3+oYc0lu09oP0U+MDIm9KWmXBEHe9HoMjruFMEP+4f3olL6sho fU4PYdJC4O/Pl8btVufVjPP2gUzLbO3mlkwxq4suHNKzGQejOMNj57nhcn1nBHqvcByZXbMLX1kj glc/1ikHdomYIjVZmkbNvm/U8Zx3bWztBcY7AcuP8lYOTU+qwseNrhqRIMf5q7LLZbXk76hWSwOc 4WmKywCbG2O9vtXM9aoLLWPbjvoocwNq9Qlxds9j99u1jXWV/wA37W/Q9P8A4xWgGuXNSSSRWv8A /9Dob+pPwsYud7HmGtkdzrP+asp/XCPzpJ0EmZPmq/1ldd9is