Pearl (The Pearl Series) Read Free Page B

her chair as if she wanted to disappear and shifted her gaze to her feet. She looked acutely embarrassed. Maybe she had a very boring job, I reasoned, and didn’t want to spoil the mood. I dropped the subject. So we brought the conversation back to me again, and she had heard of HookedUp , after all. Of course she had. Who hadn’t? Everyone and his cousin hooked up with HookedUp, even married couples. But Pearl didn’t seem particularly impressed by me, even when I let it slip that I was the CEO.
    “So when you’re not working or zipping about in your beautiful classic cars, or hanging out with Rex, what do you do to relax?”
    “I rock-climb,” I replied, already having planned in my head that rock climbing would be the perfect first date for us. Not too ‘date-like,’ not typical—she’d go for it.
    “Oh yeah? I swim. Nearly every day. It’s what keeps me sane.”
    Ah, so that accounts for her tight peachy ass and sculpted legs. We discussed the benefit of sports—how it was good for one’s mental state of mind as well as keeping your body fit. This woman had me intrigued. I was getting more than a hard-on talking to her. She made me laugh. She was bright, opinionated. Had read the classics, loved dogs and sure, I couldn’t deny it, she had a body like a pin-up and the face of an angel. Besides, with all her straw-sucking, I knew what was going through her mind. She wanted to see me with my shirt off. Yes, damn it, I could tell. She couldn’t take her eyes off my chest. She even licked her luscious lips while she was ogling me, and then said—her eyes all baby-doll…all come-and-fuck-me-now:
    “I tried rock climbing once. I was terrified but I could really understand the attraction to the sport.”
    On the word, attraction , I swear to God, she looked at my chest, then my groin, and back again to my chest before she finally fastened her gaze on my face. Oh yeah, believe me, I knew what was going on in Pearl’s mind. Her smart attire, educated voice and expensive handbag didn’t fool me. Still, her come-on would have been imperceptible to an un-trained eye—not slutty, not over-flirtatious…just a split second of wanton lust on her part, which I bet she thought I hadn’t clocked onto.
    But…Miss Pearl Robinson, daughter of hippies, lover of dogs, quasi-vegetarian temptress….I had your number.
    I knew everything there was to know—instinctively.
    I wanted her quirky ass and I was going to have it. And everything that went with it, too. All of it. I was going to put my mark on that peachy butt.
    I presumed I had her all worked out. Clever me.
    Little did I know that I was dead wrong.
    "Things weren’t going to be quite so simple."

2
    S o there we were chatting about this and that, still drinking our coffees, lingering over them, trying to make our drinks last, because neither of us wanted our tête-à-tête to end.
    During the conversation that followed, it struck me that Pearl was damaged goods. But it was too late. I was invested. I invited her rock climbing—feeling smug about all the things I was going to do to her, picturing her having multiple orgasms as I fucked her senseless in several different ways. How I’d take her to a hotel the night before, we’d have passionate sex, and by the next day, she probably wouldn’t even want to go rock climbing anyway, because let’s face it, when she told me she’d once been, she was obviously lying.
    “Would it seem too forward to invite you to come with me for the weekend?” I suggested.
    Her eyes lit up, at first, “Not at all!” she said with enthusiasm. But suddenly, she froze. Froze. She was like a beautiful flower closing its petals. I saw horror flash across her face. She was even eyeing the front door as if she planned to make a dash for it. Why? She was stunning, had a great body (so must have felt confident in that department), fancied the pants off me, obviously wasn’t playing the hard-to-get-I’m-so-virtuous game, so why was