Casual Affair (Timid Souls Book 2) (3 page)

That was my last thought before my eyes drifted closed.

##

Zane

Bugger me, I need a pint.

That’s what managing three different branches of a company simultaneously did to you. I agreed to this temporary job because it meant more money for me, and the more money for me meant more money I could send to my father. That made the fifty phone calls a day and non-stop Skyping sessions with my people back in England—not to mention the hundreds of emails a week—worth it.

“Mr. Price,” my receptionist said over the intercom on my office phone, “Ms. Schumer is on line two for you.”

I sighed.
Brilliant
. One of our newest and biggest clients who seemed to have about five thousand questions a day regarding her company’s new analytics software that we recently installed, and almost always had something to complain about. I swear, if she hadn’t been bringing in so much business for us, I would have been tempted to refer her elsewhere.

“Thank you, Denise,” I responded. “You haven’t heard back from Peter yet have you?” I asked before she could get off the line.

“No, sir.” I don’t know how many times I’d asked her to call me Zane but she refused. “I’ll let you know the second he calls.”

I thanked her again and spent the next half hour explaining to Ms. Schumer why a few glitches might pop up in the system here and there during the first two weeks of new software introduction, reassuring her that there were back-ups on top of back-ups and that no, years’ worth of her company’s research would not be lost just because the wrong button was pushed.

Nine months I’d been in the United States and I’d only recently started enjoying it. Perhaps that was because I had just discovered fried twinkies. Or, perhaps it was because of the woman I shagged three weeks ago who had apparently taken up residence in my head.

Bea.

I never got her last name. I didn’t even know where she worked or what she did for a living. But that didn’t take away from the fact that I was dying to see her again. The night I’d brought her back to my flat had been replaying in my mind like a record on repeat. Her sounds, her touch, her body, were all seared into my memory.

And that damn accent of hers. Holy shit, it was like it had a direct line to my manhood. I hadn’t been exposed to many southern accents in my day, but hers was by far the sexiest thing I had ever heard.

I hadn’t expected her to stay all night, but I certainly hadn’t complained when I’d woken up the next morning to see her beautifully naked body still lying next to mine. I just laid there for a little while, enjoying the comforts of having a warm, soft woman in bed with me. But when I felt her stir and then bolt out of bed when she realized where she was, it was clear that she wanted to avoid any uncomfortable conversations. So, I acted like I was still asleep as she scrambled around the room, getting dressed and leaving without a word.

If I ever wanted to see her again, I knew that I couldn’t spook her by acting clingy or pushy. So, I just let her walk out.

I’d read her as soon as she started walking toward me at the club that night. The confident strut she had going on said it all. She knew what she was doing when it came to men, and she was definitely no novice when it came to that sort of bar scene. She was by far the sexiest woman I had ever laid eyes on, and I hadn’t been the only man in that club who’d noticed her. The woman was a damn tigress. She could have had her pick of any man in the bar and they would have crawled right to her, drooling.

But she had come to me.

And as soon as she’d started talking, I could tell she was used to having the control. She liked leading a man and not the other way around. It took me a little while to figure out whether or not that was because she honestly preferred things that way, or if it was because she’d just never had a man insist on doing the leading.

I’d gotten my answer later that night in bed.

She’d been so willing to take direction. I could see it in her eyes; my assertiveness excited her. No doubt, she was an amazing woman and sexy as all hell, but it was clear she had never been out with a real man. Because a real man knew how to read a woman’s responses. He could tell when he should allow her to have the control and then when she wanted to give up that control.

The second I’d realized all of this about her, I’d wanted to be the first one to open her eyes to what she’d been missing out on. I wanted to be the man she gave in to. I wanted to earn that trust from her because I could tell it was something she didn’t let go of easily.

And I couldn’t have been happier with the outcome.

Absolute best sex of my life, no question.

Despite all of this, though, I also knew that she wasn’t looking for a relationship. I wasn’t really either, seeing as how it was August and I was scheduled to be back in London by the end of the year. It just wasn’t the right time to start anything serious. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t open to a short-term thing with her. What did the Americans call it? A
fling
?

I was certainly open to having a fling with Bea if it meant that I would get more of what we shared that night.

So, I did something I probably shouldn’t have.

It was why I let her walk out of my place that morning despite all of my instincts to pull her back into bed.

We had woken up for a second round of shagging that night, and in her hazy state of post-coital pleasure, I’d told her that I couldn’t find my phone and asked her to call it. She’d been so worn out and contentedly sated—something I was extremely proud of—that she hadn’t even questioned my request.

Which meant that I now had her number in my phone.

Something I knew she hadn’t planned on giving to me.

It was sneaky and probably wrong, but I didn’t care.

I wanted to see her again.

I hadn’t used it yet, though. I knew how women worked. I figured she would probably convince herself that she could never see me again, that it was just a one-time thing. I wanted to give her enough time to realize that she wanted to see me again, too. That’s when I would make my move.

I wasn’t being cocky. I just knew how to read signals from women. I’d had enough girlfriends in my day and enough female friends that I wouldn’t say I was an authority on women, but I’d had my fair share of experiencing the many emotional stages of the opposite sex. And Bea’s signals had been loud and clear. She had liked what we did. And if she liked it that meant there was the possibility that I could convince her to do it again.

I was still working on that plan of action when Peter, my boss back in London and the sole owner of our tech company, called.

“How’s it going over there with the Yanks?” he asked, amusement in his voice. “They get you drinking coffee yet?”

I rolled my eyes even though I know he couldn’t see it. Like the vast majority of Brits, we were both perpetual tea drinkers and always would be. “Get serious. About time your lazy ass called me back. I’ve only rung you ten times since this morning.”

Peter may have technically been my boss but he had always treated me more like his partner, rather than someone in his employ. He wasn’t that much older than me and we’d always sort of had a big brother-little brother relationship. Which was why I could give him a hard time and call him an ass and not get sacked for it.

“Oh, piss off,” was his witty retort. “You do realize that I’m five hours ahead of you and am at different work hours in the day than you, yeah?”

I laughed and proceeded to update him on everything that had happened with the business in the last twenty-four hours, which was apparently a lot since it took us nearly thirty minutes to get through it all.

“So, how is living with Mike?” he asked, changing the subject. “Still getting along?”

Peter’s cousin, Mike, conveniently lived in D.C. and had an extra bedroom available, so I didn’t have to worry about renting out my own place while I stayed here. Mike was also temporarily living in the U.S. to conduct research for his doctoral degree, but you would never know it of him. From his dress to his personality to his habits, one would think he was the biggest slacker in the history of mankind. You would never know the man was a bloody genius and on the rise to be one of the top minds in his field.

Apparently, he didn’t like to flaunt his brilliance and I had to respect him for that.

“Aside from the fact that his eating habits, and pretty much all of his other habits, are like those of a fourteen-year-old, it’s smashing.”

Not only did Mike have the world’s largest collection of junk food, but he also played video games like it was his job. I had absolutely no idea how he was able to stay in the shape that he was in with his sedentary lifestyle, not to mention find the time to conduct his research and work on his dissertation.

That was when I remembered that I was supposed to go have drinks with Mike when I left the office. I’d almost forgotten about it with the day I’d had. Mike tended to need breaks from his work and even the video games, and I needed a break from the monotony that was my job. So, we were slowly trying out all the pubs in the greater D.C. area.

I heard Peter’s chuckle over the line before he said, “Sounds about right.” He paused briefly and I knew what was coming. “Please tell me work isn’t the only thing you’re doing over there, Zane.”

And there it was.

Peter felt the need to comment on my love life, or lack thereof, more than anyone I knew. Even my own father didn’t badger me about it every chance he got like Peter. I wasn’t sure if it was because Peter had finally found love and got married and he wanted that for me too or if it something else.

“I’m not having this conversation again,” I grunted into the phone.

“I love you, mate, but do you realize how long it’s been since you’ve had a girlfriend? Your equipment is bloody likely to fall off if you don’t utilize it more often. I’m only speaking as a concerned friend here.”

It definitely hasn’t fallen off and it’s most definitely been utilized.

But I wasn’t going to tell him that. He’d ask far too many questions and I didn’t even know if I was going to see Bea again. Plus, it somehow felt wrong to divulge the details of our night together to anyone. For some inexplicable reason, I felt compelled to keep those to myself for now.

“I’m due back in London by December, Peter. The last thing I need right now is to get tangled up in a relationship.” I looked down at my watch and realized that I needed to pack up for the day if I wanted to meet Mike at the pub on time.

Peter sighed in frustration over the phone. “All I’m saying is that you need to sample more of America than just their beers. Even if it’s just a bit of snogging. Have some fun for once.”

Maybe I had been working a little too hard lately and maybe I was too serious at times but I had good reason to be. After my father’s accident at the factory years ago had put him on government assistance, he hadn’t been able to work and needed me to help with his finances. If he moved out of his house and into a smaller flat like he’d said he was going to do for years, he could probably afford to pay all of his bills himself. But I have insisted that he stay in the house he lived in with my mother before she died and the one I grew up in. Because he couldn’t cover all of the expenses of maintaining a house that size, I agreed to help and have been for the last several years.

I thought about what Peter said, though. He was probably right but I had fun three weekends ago. With Bea. The night I met her, I had planned on going home after I had dinner with a client. But instead, I’d decided I needed another drink and went to the club I’d heard some of the guys around the office talking about. At the time, I thought that blowing off some steam would do me good.

And blimey, did it ever.

“I’ll work on that. Tell Sara I said hello and give that little bundle a kiss for me.”

Peter married Sara last year after three years of dating on and off. They eventually figured out that they couldn’t live without each other and eloped one weekend without telling a soul. Nine months later, their daughter Annabelle was born.

I heard the smile in his voice when he replied, “I will. She laughed at me for the first time last night.”

I smiled, so glad for my friend’s happiness. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger. What are you going to do when she grows up and all the blokes come knocking on your door?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

He released some sort of growl and I did laugh this time, just imagining what his face looked like. “No wanker is getting within a hundred meters of her until she’s thirty.”

“Good luck eventually telling her that.” His response was a grunt.

“I’ll get in touch with you tomorrow,” I said, walking toward my office door.

Peter paused and then, “Don’t think I don’t know your game, Price. You brought up my girls to deter the conversation away from you finding one of your own. You’ll see, though. One of these days you will want to talk about it, and then you’re going to be thanking me for my valuable wisdom.”

“Don’t hold your breath, mate,” I said. “Cheers.”

“You’ll see!” he yelled as I took the phone away from my ear. “I’m right!” was the last thing I heard before I hung up.

##