Одри Карлан - January (Calendar Girl #1)

“Relax, Ms. Mia. I said your socks were cute, not you. You are quite possibly one of the most devastatingly beautiful women I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. I can’t wait to see you naked.” His lips twitched into a sultry grin, and his eyes smoldered.

I took a slow breath and stared as he stood up. Our gazes held, and it seemed like minutes passed by as we catalogued the others’ nuances. “Um, well, I’m glad you think I’m pretty enough to be here. Like I said, you’ve got me for the month and…wait...” Something he said just clicked. “Excuse me? You can’t wait to see me naked?” The words left my lips in a loose jumble. “That’s not included in the contract…“

“Oh, I’m well aware of what’s in the contract,” Wes said as he came over to me, slid a hand around my waist and plastered me against his body. I gasped as the steely ridge of a very large erection pressed into my belly. His gaze scanned my face, and he leaned closer, so close I could feel his breath puff against my heated lips. “If I get you naked, it will not be because I’m paying for it.” Wes’s lips touched the skin just behind my ear where he placed a gentle, whisper-light kiss. I stayed perfectly still, pleasure rocketing through every limb, each nerve focused, waiting for his next touch. The rough edge of his stubbly chin slid along my smooth one sending shivers down my spine and a wave of heat to settle between my thighs. “You’ll drop your clothes for me when you’re ready. I won’t even have to ask,” he whispered before pressing a small kiss to just the edge of my lips.

He pulled back, his green eyes swirling with restrained lust. “I have work to do in my office. Feel free to look around, sunbathe, use the pool. I’ll need you ready and wearing a cocktail dress at five sharp. We have a business dinner to attend,” and with one last squeeze to my hip, he turned and left. The skin of my hip still felt the phantom imprint of his touch.

“Damn,” I said, lightheaded after holding my breath for so long. Once his lips touched down behind my ear, I’d lost the ability to breathe. “He’s going to be trouble.”

Chapter 3

The pool was heated and refreshing. I used the time I had to work on my tan and get some exercise by way of laps in the pool. Weston, or “Wes” as he likes to be called, had not made an appearance. I imagined him behind one of the many closed doors I passed on my way to the patio.

While I was drip-drying, a petite, though quite round woman, dressed in a pair of khakis and a sweater holding a tray, entered the patio. Instantly, I reached for a towel that was not there and looked around. She smiled wide and walked over to a basket in the corner by the door, lifted the lid and pulled out a huge, multicolored beach towel. “Here you are, love,” she said in a British accent handing me the towel. Her salt-and-pepper-colored hair and soft brown eyes reminded me of an older Mary Poppins.

“Hi, I’m Mia.” I pulled the towel completely around my body hiding the miniscule red bikini I’d found in the wardrobe. There were several others, but they were all tiny, so I chose one at random.

‘Mary Poppins’ smiled and held out her small hand. “Ms. Croft. I keep the house in order, provide Mr. Channing with his meals, tidy up, and the lot.” I nodded and wrung the excess water out of my hair and pulled it up into a ponytail. “I wanted to bring you a little nosh, introduce myself, and let you know that if you need anything, you can buzz me by pressing the Aid button on the mounted intercom in each room.” She pointed to the panel of buttons on the wall outside. “I’ll be sure to provide you with a daily schedule of yours and Mr. Channing’s activities so you are prepared. How about I push it under your door in the mornings?”

I shrugged. Like her, I was a hired hand, only I was meant to look pretty and scare off rich girls. We all had our crosses to bear. “Whatever works. I’m easy.”

Ms. Croft looked me up and down and then tilted her head. A smirk adorned her thin lips. “I’m getting the feeling you’re anything but easy, poppet,” she winked. “This should be interesting,” she said vaguely before she turned on her heel and re-entered the house.

Whatever that meant. Scanning the awesome view one more time I thought, this is going to be easy money . Hot guy, I’m not going to fall in love with, a killer pad with a view, and enough new clothes to choke a horse. So far, seemed like a pretty killer gig. Through the open patio doors, I saw the clock hanging over the stove in the kitchen and noted I had an hour and half before Hot Surfer Rich Guy needed his new “companion” for my first day on the job.

I decided as with everything, I was going to knock his socks off, even if they weren’t Christmas red and green.

***

Mr. Channing arrived at my door with a brisk knock then strutted right in without waiting for an invitation. Note to self: Don’t get dressed out in the open, or you’re liable to give the Lord of the Manor a peep show. Though something tells me he wouldn’t mind at all, if the way his eyes were passing over my form from top to bottom—not once, but twice—was any indication The view on this side of the room wasn’t bad either. He was de-lish-ious in a finely tailored black suit. He had on a crisp white shirt with the collar open showing a sexy slash of male throat. He held up three ties as he took in my attire.

I was wearing a deep eggplant purple cocktail dress. It had beading at the halter neck, which flowed into two swaths of fabric over my breasts leaving the center open for maximum cleavage, then crossed over at the ribs, again with the jewels, leaving enticing cutouts at the dips in my waist. I’d never worn anything so sexy, elegant, or expensive. I felt like Elizabeth Taylor in one of her diamond commercials. The rest of the dress fell into an A-line ending demurely at the knee. Even though I was on the busty side—this dress left no room for a bra with its open back—it held the girls up nicely with the inside shaping. I looked and, better yet, felt beautiful for the first time in a long time.

“Wow,” was all Wes said as he stood with a look of awe over his handsomely rugged face. He held out the three ties and presented them to me. “Which one?” he said on a swallow before clearing his throat. I grinned, loving every second of taking this wild card by surprise. I might be a bad ass biker babe but I knew I cleaned up well.

The ties were nice, and one did go better with my dress than the rest, but instead of taking the ties from him, I placed both my hands at his collar, pulled it out and laid it over the collar and lapels of his suit. “I like it without. You look hot.” No reason not to be honest. He did look hot.

His lips crooked up into a too-hot-to-handle grin and I bit my lip, feeling the lace of my panties go damp. Shit, if he didn’t stop, I was going to jump him. Like Ginelle so crudely reminded me this morning, it had been months since I’d felt a man’s touch. And honestly, it was more like a year. I’d had it with men after Blaine and spent the year telling myself I could live the life of a nun as long as I had a vibrator and plenty of cookie dough at the ready. Faced with the man in front of me, I wasn’t so sure celibacy was the smart decision. For right now, I was primed to take down Hot Surfer guy.

“Mother won’t like that,” he whispered before clasping my wrist and tugging me to him. I wobbled on the sickeningly high stiletto heels his personal shopper bought and tumbled into him, chest-to-chest. My hands landed on the hard wall of muscle that could still be felt through his suit and shirt.

He looked down at me as I looked up. “You always do what your mama says?” I challenged.