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Nick momentarily forgot why he was standing in front of her car until her words, what the fuck, came floating back from his subconscious.

He schooled his face in what he hoped was a stern expression while saying, “I should be the one saying that you know.”

Those big, beautiful eyes blinked a few times. She looked confused. She furrowed her brows and asked, “Huh?”

Nick fought the desire to smile, “You said ‘What the fuck.’ And I said, ‘I should be saying that.’ Why are you following me?”

Kalilah shook her head, the movement causing her hair to frame her face in soft waves and brush the top of her shoulders. He watched fascinated as she pushed some of her bangs out of her right eye. It seemed like she changed her hair every week.

Last week, when hair was light brown, she wore it straight and slicked back out of her face. This week, her hair was black and had soft waves like Kerry Washington when she is solving the president’s problems in Scandal.

“I was here first.” This time he was confused until she continued. “I cannot follow you if I was parked here first.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.”

Nick rolled his eyes and sighed. This was going nowhere; he felt it would be more efficient to state the facts.

“Look, I’ve been parking back here over a year and have never seen you before two weeks ago.” She opened her mouth to speak but he held up a finger. “Fact. The first day I saw you parked here, I felt watched but didn’t think much of it because I thought you just wanted alone time in your car. Your windows are tinted so I could not identify who you were, but I could see the silhouette of your head following my movements.

Her eyes got big again and she tried to respond, “But…”

Nick held up his finger again, “Fact. Day two through four I walked to random parts of the parking lot to test my theory, and I got the same result every time. You are in fact stalking me, so cut the shit and tell me why.”

He took a deep breath and hoped that he didn’t completely piss her off. His filter seemed to be broken this week, and he was currently ruining any chance he had to get the girl of his dreams.

“I am NOT a stalker. Please do not suggest otherwise,” she responded with a definite clip in her voice. She rolled up her window and got out of her car.

Nick’s brain slowed down her movements like he was watching a replay. He watched helplessly as she swung her legs out of the car. He bit back a groan when he realized what he originally thought was a blouse was a cream wrap dress. His eyes traveled from the neutral pumps that made her five-eight frame look taller, up to her bare legs. Her dress accented her hourglass figure. Nick wanted more than anything to loosen the belt on her dress to see if her body matched his fantasies.

She pressed the lock on her key twice, and the car honked in protest. Satisfied, she started to walk off, dismissing him. As much as Nick liked looking at her ass, he needed answers more.

“Do you think you would know the answer if HR asked?”

Kalilah spun on her heels to face him, annoyance evident on her face. Nick took a deep breath and tried to maintain his composure. This is the closest he’d ever been to her since she began working for Sinclair Enterprises. He was used to seeing her from across the company cafeteria and wondering what she smelled and tasted like. He thought that he would build up the courage to talk to her one day, but he had never caused an argument in his dreams. Being within in smelling, touching, and tasting distance of her was overwhelming.

The Sinclair charm was another thing he did not inherit from his old man; his little brother Dex had it in spades. Either one of them would have given her a smile that would have melted her panties off and would have convinced her within five minutes to blow off work to blow them instead.

All he accomplished in five minutes was to piss her off more. While it was true that his father was happily married to his mother, he had no delusions on how he got her. Andrew Sinclair was still a shameless flirt. He just knew how to reign it in and avoid the wrath of his wife. Dex, on the other hand, had a reputation as a womanizer, a man-whore; he’d been that way since high school. Dex discovered early what his Sinclair looks and money could do for him.

Nick figured he looked more like his mother’s side; his hair was brown like hers, though his eyes were gray like Dex and his dad’s. His sister DD, the middle child, had the best of both worlds. Her hair was a rich chestnut color with natural sun-kissed golden highlights. She had olive skin like their mother and her eyes weren’t brown or gray; instead, they decided settle between the two to a stunning hazel that changed with her mood.

His darker hair made him look paler than his dad and brother, even though both men were blonde. They also had toned bodies that they’d perfected in the gym. He stood a foot taller than them, but his body needed some work. Granted, he wasn’t overweight nor did his stomach noticeably protrude. He had the soft body of a person who spent most of their time on a computer.

Kalilah got within whisper

ing distance. My God she was beautiful even when she was mad.

“As I told you. I am here before you every morning. I am not following you. As for your stalking claim,” she said in the tight-lipped whisper that mothers reserved for children who misbehaved in public, “Even IF I watched what you did every morning, I am only out here for fifteen minutes a day. Today is Thursday and I started parking here last Monday so if you were to add that up…”

Nick’s mathematical brain kicked in and he gave her the total, “You’re up to two hours and fifteen minutes.” She rolled her eyes.

“As you know, there are twenty-four hours in a day, and we are talking about eleven days which would bring the total to…” She scrunched her face up trying to do the math. Her thinking face was the cutest thing Nick had seen in a long time. He wanted to kiss all the little wrinkles out and then move on to those glossy lips. His body started to react to his wayward thoughts, and he felt it was best to speed up her argument before he embarrassed himself.

“Two hundred sixty-four hours,” Nick supplied impatiently.

She eyed him warily before responding, “Right. So, there were 261 hours and forty-five minutes during which I was NOT watching you. So, what does that tell you?”


Tags: Francesca Penn Sinclair Erotic