Versed in Desire. Anne Calhoun

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СКАЧАТЬ being offended. Men were men, and other women weren’t bound by the same sense of restraint keeping me from Luke’s bed. Whoever she was, she must have been a fifteen on a scale of one to ten if they were discussing her on work email. This was the first hookup debrief in the three months since I hadn’t gone home with Luke.

      Morrison, Luke, to Metcalf, Tony: She was bony.

      Tony and I let out simultaneous barks of laughter just as Luke rounded the corner from the elevator, his BlackBerry in one hand and a brown paper sack from the deli across the street in the other. He paused by my desk, his gaze flickering from my hair, tucked as always in a heavy bun at my nape, to the swell of my breasts just visible inside my shirt placket. One dark eyebrow lifted in an unspoken question as he pocketed the BlackBerry.

      I folded my arms on my desk, leaned forward and smiled up at him. “Like any good retainer, I see all and say nothing.”

      Though the words were teasing, my smile faded as I spoke. Faced with Luke’s lean body and the mental image of my dark-eyed devil making love to a lingerie supermodel, angel wings and all, heat and jealousy pumped in equal portions through my veins.

      For a lunchtime strategy meeting with Tony, Luke had left his jacket back in his office and rolled his shirtsleeves to his elbows. I admired broad shoulders, a promising smile or strong thighs as much as the next woman but the oddest things about Luke sent heat searing through me. His long fingers and broad palms. The twenty-dollar Timex sports watch around his left wrist when his peers wore Cartier or Patek Philippe. His tie, seemingly subdued until you noticed the manga character at the bottom. The spot at the edge of his jaw he’d missed shaving. I substituted readily visible features for pectorals and shoulder blades, the ridges of his abdomen, the girth of his cock. Long accustomed to drinking in the world in order to create, I was searching for inspiration in the mundane.

      I couldn’t help myself. “Bony?”

      He shrugged, but a hint of color stained his cheekbones. “Skeletal’s probably a better word. Got a water for me?”

      I reached under my desk, opened the dorm-sized fridge that cooled beverages for Tony’s meetings and handed Luke a bottle.

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