The Client (18+ Only)

4: In Which She Takes It Hard

4: In Which She Takes It Hard

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It had been three days since the alleged break-in and Reed had returned to painting in the basement for hours on end. Never completely satisfied with anything he started, most of his canvases ended up tossed aside and ruined. The blindfold would occasionally make an appearance and on these instances, I'd watch him unabashedly, fighting the temptation he presented. It had taken a few days but I was finally tamping down my frequent nympho thoughts.

On the outside, I was patrolling the grounds and making sure the gate hadn't been tampered with, but on the inside, I was simmering because here was yet another man who thought he could con me.

Break-in and theft, my left ass cheek.

Even if a group of twenty people somehow knew the layout of Reed's dungeon-like basement and each hoisted one of the heavy-as-fuсk easels onto their backs like worker ants, there was no way in hell they could have done it so stealthily. Plus, the gate at the entrance of the estate was one of those remote-controlled ones that were a bitch to screw with, so there was no viable way anyone could've gotten in.

No. Fucking. Way.

Of course, I never even bothered to call my dad because two seconds after Reed had mumbled something about putting an alarm system in and my sleepy mind had a Wait a minute moment, I saw through his crap. As my good friend, Dawn, was fond of saying, this man was lyin' like a rug in front of a fireplace. You just can't bullshi­t a bullshitter.

Today, Reed was especially quiet, for reasons known only to him. Guilt, one could only hope.

I folded my arms across my chest, glancing at the light bulb dangling overhead. "I have a lead on your stolen artwork, Mr. Lancaster."

He gave me a fleeting look. "Oh?"

Oh? I'll give you your oh, you manipulative little shit.

"Yeah. Think I'm gonna head Downtown to check it out." I paused, waiting for him to confess his sin. Nothing. "I'm told that I should prepare for some hostility but hey, some of us girls enjoy the thrill of beating info out of people."

Reed coughed. "You really don't have to -"

"I do," I told him, striding in his direction until he loomed over me and I could stare into his gorgeous lying eyes. "Mr. Lancaster, someone broke into your house and violated your privacy. He or she stole from you. I just have to do my job and do this on your behalf."

He swallowed, and I followed the slow bob of his Adam's apple. Dear God, even that was hot. I wasn't supposed to find anything sexy about him after the way he'd tried to make a complete fool of me, especially so soon after the impersonating fiasco. Fool me once, and all that.

"Lena, you really d-don't ¦have t-to..." He took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes. They flew open. "You don't have to do that. No one got hurt and I don't care about my stuff."

"It'll be fun - for me, not the other party." It was actually just a little sweet that he was obviously worried I'd get shot at. Just a little. "But I think you'd better kiss me, just in case I don't make it back and whatnot."

I was half-kidding, knowing that he wouldn't do it, that it wasn't in his nature to be so spontaneous and did I really want that temptation? Reed blinked repeatedly, his hands balled at his sides. I watched him clench and unclench his fists, as if he had to keep himself from touching me. I'd seen him totally naked, had him in my mouth, dry-humped him until we both came in our pants like a pair of teenagers - and yet he was scared to kiss me.