Men For Hire Read Online Free Page A

asked why she needed the equipment. “It’s just a concept. Not even finished.”
    He spoke without thinking, “Did your boss shoot it down, luv?”
    Her blush said that’s exactly what had happened. “I can do better. I have.”
    “Show me then. I’d like to see what you do.”
    She chewed her lower lip but finally brought her laptop over. Seated cross-legged on the floor, their arms touching—as though it was the most natural thing in the world—she brought up a series of files. David was no expert on marketing, but her designs were stunning. The words in particular surprised him. There was such depth of emotion in the copy, as though she was speaking from the heart about wanting to be beautiful finally, aching to have men notice her.
    What in the bloody hell was the matter with this woman? Didn’t she ever look in a mirror and see how wonderful she was?
    Not wanting to get into that, David bumped her arm with his. “This stuff’s brilliant. Surely, it boosted sales.”
    “That’s why I’m here.”
    Liar. He heard her pain and decided to be honest, at least to some degree. “We can’t all fit in. I surely don’t. Many of my friends drifted away after I quit my position.”
    Bree rested her hand on his thigh, seemingly unaware of how quickly that aroused him, his cock wanting to be free of all clothing so her cunt could imprison it instead.
    “Friends are people who love you no matter what,” she said.
    He smiled. “Very wise. Did you write that too?”
    “Heard it on a sitcom, can’t recall which.”
    He hugged her for making him laugh again, kissed her breathless then divided his time between looking at her work and seeing to his assembly. As Bree fanned him with the pasteboard, they shared histories. Her time at Harvard, his at the University of Cambridge. Bree’s addiction to The Walking Dead, Suits, Nashville, and Grey’s Anatomy. His love of football and other sports.
    At last, he had the frames for this monstrosity in place, though little else even after so much time had flown by. The sun was low, turning everything in the flat a hazy gold. Thankfully, the temperature had dropped a bit, making it almost bearable.
    Bree looked as wilted as David felt, her arms flapping more slowly, the breeze she tried to create barely registering.
    A wave of tenderness hit him hard. Rather than fleeing the emotion, David embraced it, unafraid to be himself around her. Bree brought that out in a man, letting him know he was enough just as he was.
    Time for him to be as considerate of her. “You can stop. In fact, you should. Your arms must be killing you.”
    She spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”
    “Put it down,” he ordered. “We’ve done enough for now.”
    Bree let the pasteboard slip through her fingers. “Time for fun?”
    The hope in her voice made David feel younger than he had in years, excited too. He pushed to his feet. With one hand on the back of her neck, he eased Bree close. She sagged into him, her face lifted to his.
    David kissed her good, hard, and thorough, his tongue plunging into her mouth with no hesitation whatsoever. It’s what they both wanted, and he wasn’t about to play games. He settled his hand on her breast, testing its wonderful weight, his thumb dragging across her nipple. The tip hardened beneath his touch.
    Before they got too randy, he pulled his mouth free and murmured, “Let me go home to clean up. I’ll ring the service too. Tell them I’m done but forgot to check in about it. Don’t want you getting charged for more than you’d agreed on.”
    “I don’t mind.”
    “I do. I’ll be back in an hour or so. What kind of pizza do you like?”
    Bree’s lids fluttered opened. She regarded his mouth then his eyes. “Pizza?”
    “You don’t like it?”
    With an expression that said he was a bloody fool, she pulled away.
    “What is it?” What had he said?
    “Do you really have to ask if I like pizza?” On a sad sigh, she gestured to her body.