Under Contract (The GEG Series) (8 page)

“Um ... okay.” I let him in, but leave the door open for safety reasons. Of course.

After fifteen minutes or so, the tech leaves me to stare at the screen of a brand-new Mac laptop.
Yeah, I said “borrow,” dude!
I hit the icon for the Internet and sign in to my new bank account. My balance pops up and I have to do a double take. What?! No, no ... Wilson put too many zeros! Shit! Well, Mitch can just transfer the money back. Yes ... stop flipping out, Charley.

“Hey.” Mitch kisses my head.

“Hi.” I smile up at him, covering the receiver of my phone. “I’ll be done in a minute.” I point over to the table where the lunch I ordered awaits. “Yes ... the balance,” I say to the guy on the phone, confirming that I want to pay off my entire Discover card bill. I give him the number to my debit, get the confirmation after a series of yeses and noes, and hang up the phone. It always amazes me how helpful people are when you have money to pay your bill. “How’d your meeting go?” I walk up to Mitch and wrap my arms around his shoulders from behind, planting a kiss on his cheek before pulling up my chair.

“Very well, thank you.” He passes me a salad. “How’s your new laptop?”

“Mitch, I asked to borrow one, not for you to buy me one,” I complain. He just winks at me with the makings of a smile at his lips.

“So what were you doing when I got in—shopping?”

“No.” I open my salad. “I was paying bills.”

“You have all of this money at your fingertips and the first thing you do is pay bills?” He looks at me strangely.

“Well ... yeah,” I say with some discomfort.
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to pay bills.

“Buy yourself something, baby.” He taps my knee.

“I did.”

“What?”

“A roof over my head.” As soon as I say it, I wish I could hit rewind and delete. Why did I say that? I can’t even muster the courage to look at Mitch.

“Who’s your mortgage carried by, baby?” he asks after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“Speaking of banks.” I look up, firmly enacting my amazing ability to change the subject. “Wilson had his head so far up your ass, I think he cut off some oxygen to his brain.”

“What do you mean?”

“He put one too many zeros in for the transfer. You should go into our account and transfer the money back,” I say, before forking a bite of salad too big for my mouth.

“You say he put too much in and you want me to take it out?” He looks at me like ... hmm. I don’t know. This is a new look.

“Yes.” I nod. He stares at me. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just ... you’re a rare breed, Charlotte McKendrick.” He looks mystified. I shrug. “So,” he starts. “I need to head up to my house in Andover to check on a few things. You’ll meet me and we’ll stay there tonight.”

“What about this place? You’ve already paid for tonight.”

“So what?” he asks, continuing with his lunch. I just stare at him.

I sigh. “I should introduce you to my Aunt Clara.”

“Why’s that?” He takes a sip of his flavored water.

“She has more money than sense, too.”

“Charlotte,” Mitch says, and closes his eyes to compose himself ... I think. “Have I once put you down for not having any money?”

“No.”

“Then don’t put me down for having it!” he snaps.

“Uh ... sor ... sorry,” I stammer, feeling like a complete idiot. He’s right. That was rude of me.

“I’ll give you the address before you leave. That was good, baby, thanks.” He throws his container back into the bag.

“Oh, good—can’t go wrong with a Cobb salad, it has a bit of everything. There are some huge soft oatmeal-raisin cookies in there.” I point to the other bag.

“I’ll wait for you.” He props his elbow on the table and leans his head against his closed fist.

“Few more bites ... I’m getting full.” I chew on another piece. “Mitch, don’t do that,” I plead.

“Don’t do what—talk with my mouth full?”

I roll my eyes and swallow. “Don’t just sit there and stare at me like you’re trying to figure me out.”

“I’d have to be a genius to figure you out in one night. Truth be told, I have a feeling I’ll never really figure you out.” He reaches forward and thumbs away the dressing at the corner of my mouth. I grab his hand and take his thumb between my lips. My tongue swirls around the tip before I suck purposefully at it. His breath hitches.

“Damn it, Charlotte,” he says under his breath. I release his thumb and shoot him a mischievous smile. I take my last bite and start cleaning the table. I peek at the clock—thirty minutes. I come back to the table to stand next to Mitch and grab the bag with dessert. Mitch takes it out of my hand and tosses it. “My dessert isn’t in that package,” he says, pulling me to him by the waist of my jean capris. He pushes his chair back and moves me in front of him. “Do you know what I thought about the entire time I was in that meeting?” he asks, keeping a steady lock on my eyes. His fingers work at my button and zipper.

“What?” I can barely hear myself.

“I thought about,” he says, pulling my capris and panties down, “these lovely legs wrapped around my neck. Then I thought about my face buried between them, my tongue tasting this sweet pussy of yours.” A single finger traces my cleft.

“Jesus, Mitch,” I gasp and feel myself turn about a hundred shades of red.

“Are you always going to gasp when I say that word, baby?” He smiles—proud of himself, I think.

“Well ... it’s the middle of the day.”
Wow ... really, Pollyanna?
Mitch laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry. You’re just so cute.” He shakes my hips.

“Well, just don’t call it the C-word. I hate that word.” I sigh.

“Cunt?” He raises his brows.

“Yes. It’s a turnoff—don’t do it.”

“I wouldn’t. I don’t like it either.” He pats the table and I sit on it. “Besides,” he says, nudging me to lean back on my elbows, “I couldn’t call something so soft, that purrs every time I touch it, anything but a pussy.” He opens my legs, sits, and places them over his shoulders. “You ready for your pussy to start purring, baby?” He yanks my hips down to him.

“I think it’s already started, Mitch,” I say truthfully.

“Jesus, Charlotte,” he gasps, then dives in.

I’ve got one word with four syllables:
me—fucking—ow
!

Slowly (and by that I mean fifty miles per hour) I merge onto I-93 North to head home. I should’ve left half an hour ago, but Mitch was all like,
Purr for me, baby
, and I was all like,
Purr, Mitch
, and so on and so forth.

“Ugh!” I groan and grab my cell to text Mitch.

Why didn’t you remind me that it’s Wednesday? I just rushed off frantically so I could be surrounded by all the other assholes trying to get home from Boston @ 4:30!

Don’t text and drive, Charlotte!

Who’s driving?! Certainly not me!

Well, come back here. I’ll give you a ride. ;-p

It’s your ride, sir, that has me delayed! I could’ve been in the middle of this party a whole half an hour ago!

It was a good ride, though ... so purrfect. Here, kitty kitty.

Oh, shut up you! I can’t believe you branded her with the name Kitty!

Actually, Kitty Wans’more is her full name.

Okay 007! BTW ... Kitty did wans’more.

Christ—morale is through the roof here!

Bypassed the ceiling, did he?

And the other five fucking floors!

This is Kitty Wans’more, reporting live from the Zakim Bridge ...

How are things in the belly of the beast? Any signs of movement, Kitty?

I’m afraid not, Morale, and I hate to say it but it’s a sad scene down in the trenches. I’m surrounded by dissatisfied people who all look zombish.

Zombish is not a word ...

It says right here, “Looks like a zombie but isn’t really one ... just looks that way.”

Says right here where? (Eye roll)

In the McKendrick I-know-my-shit-so-shut-up dictionary.

Tell me to “shut up” one more time and you will find yourself across my knees tonight!

SHUT

the front door! Guy on my left has a very satisfied smirk on his face.

Why—is he looking at you?
:)

Aw ... but no. I am no match for what has brought on such a satisfied smirk.

Shall I guess?

You’ll never get it ...

I believe I did.

*Blush* Now guess—you only get 3 chances!

Is he slappin’ Pappy?

X

Making nut butter?

XX and ... good God ... WHAT?

Taking a shake break? Slinging jelly? Doing the Roman Helmet Rhumba? Punchin’ the Munchkin? Hacking the hog?

XXX and ... you lied ...

About?

You have WAY too much time on your hands!

:|
*Blush*

Dirty boy! Would you like to know what has satisfied the man next to me so?

Did you flash him your tits?
:)
WAIT—did you flash him your tits?
:(

I tried, but like I said, what he has is far more interesting.

I give up! What is it?

He has retrieved something the size of Rhode Island out of his nose! It looks a bit suspect. He’s been staring at it and playing with it for five minutes now! His satisfied smirk seems evil. It may very well be RI. You should call the President, just in case. If RI is missing—he’s our guy!

You saw through the Booger Shield? Is that your superpower?

Holy crap! It must be! How else could I have seen him pick his nose through the clear window of his car? The Booger Shield must have gone up so no one could see!

But you did! Amazing!

And now, I must do something else.

What are you doing?

I’ve beeped my horn ...

And?

I’ve got his attention ...

And?

I’ve asked him to roll down his window.

No you didn’t!

Yes ... shh ... I’m asking him ...

Asking him what?

Asking him what, Charlotte?!

Oh dear ... it couldn’t be helped.

What?!

I had to do it ... I had to ask.

Charlotte, goddamn it! What?

I said, “Dude ...”

Ugh ... What?!

“You gonna eat that?” But in a tone that said “‘Cause if you’re not, I’m totally on it!”

Damn it ... you just made me laugh like a girl! What did he say?

He said ...

Ugh!

“Here ... I’m still full from yesterday’s.”

I can’t stand you!

True story ...

My ass!

Yes ... you do have a nice “ending”! Traffic’s moving, baby. Thanks for keeping me company! :)

Flat leaver ... again!

Can we stop being 12 now?

You started it!
:)

I plug my phone into the car, hit the Pandora app, and put my cello station on. I need to analyze my new situation. That requires a station I won’t sing along to. Minimal distractions ... only ... 2Cellos just came on with their version of “With or Without You.”
Damn it!
I’m totally gonna belt that shit out—it would be illegal not too!

I look down at my speedometer as the slow crawl picks up pace. I can almost hear her scream,
That’s it, baby ... that’s it ... give me needle!
She climaxes at sixty-five miles per hour. I giggle at my thoughts. I’d like to blame Mitch for this side of me, but I’ve always been a closet whore—so to speak. I have a dirty mind with a clean mouth ... well, an acceptable mouth. I think Mitch has cracked my closet door open, though!

Good Lord, what that man has done to my body! I have never been touched like
that
! Sure, I have three kids—I’ve been touched—but that, that was worship status. His hands felt so incredible on my skin, like they were made to touch my body only. His words were so hypnotic; I was completely under his erotic spell.
“Baby.”
His voice was so soft, matching the light touch of his fingertips.
“Your body knows it. Look at how it responds. It knows it belongs to me.”