17
Beau
My agent had called, wanting to talk to me in person.
I hoped that meant good news about a sponsor.
He refused to elaborate when I’d asked. All he’d said was that we’d discuss it at dinner.
The restaurant he’d chosen was one of the best.
Of course, it was.
I’d be picking up the tab, so what did he care how much it cost?
Under my jacket, I wore a nice button down, with a tie.
Just as I closed my door and started walking across the courtyard, I heard a door shut.
It was Geneviève.
She had on a beautiful, dark blue dress. The skirt was light and flowy, and moved with her as she descended her steps.
I stopped in my tracks and watched her chest bounce.
God, I was such a perv.
But I missed that cleavage something awful.
I sped up, and arrived at the iron gate before she did. Opening it up, I thought about all the snarky things I wanted to say. Instead, I said, “You look beautiful tonight, Geneviève.”
She didn’t reply. Only nodded.
I turned right into the parking lot, and she turned left.
A thought hit me smack in the face. “Where are you going?” I asked, suspicious of where she’d be going all dressed up like that without her girls.
As she hesitated, I realized I may not want to know the answer.
“It’s none of your business, Moreau,” she called back and continued walking.
“Are you going to meet Quentin?”
She did a stutter step and came to a screeching stop. Then she turned around. “Are you going there, too?”
I nodded my head.
She rolled her eyes. “Why does he want to see both of us?”
My hands swung out to the side. “How am I supposed to know?”
We stared at each other for a moment.
Christ, she was beautiful.
I mean, she was always beautiful.
Especially underneath me, shouting my name while she squeezed my cock so hard with her pussy, I had to come.