Floor Time by Liz Crowe

shudder with anticipation.
     
    Sara smiled at her reflection in the mirror. If she were completely honest with herself, she'd have to admit that the illicit nature of this thing they were doing, whatever it was, turned her on more than anything she'd experienced ever in her life. Even though she knew it was likely the entire real estate community knew about them by now since Jack was not known for his silence on the subject of women.
     
    She sighed and brushed her hair back. The occasional twinges of wanting more from him -- visions of a future that included him -- haunted her, but she would not allow them to gain a foothold. She was an independent woman. Successful in her own right. She could cope with a purely physical relationship, as she had claimed to Blake and Rob. But something in her yearned for more. The small taste of his real self, that day at the open house, had not been enough.
     
    Smoothing her hands over the black linen skirt, she turned sideways, admired the sunny yellow top that flared out over the waistband and allowed the slightest hint of cleavage she chosen for today. She allowed herself a small moment of satisfaction. Her latest shoe conquest: a pair of classic patent leather Jimmy Choos she'd ordered online and had spent an entire commission check to buy, graced her feet. After grabbing her to-go coffee, she headed for the car.
     
    Small talk with Meg and a few other colleagues distracted her on her way into her weekly sales meeting. She took a seat, eating a banana without tasting it.
     
    When she looked up from the latest crisis evolving via email on her phone her eyes clashed with a pair of dark brown ones she didn't recognize across the table. They belonged to a guy looking at her so intently it was a wonder no one noticed. She smiled, and her face got hot when he winked.
     
    The rolled up sleeves of a soft-looking white button down shirt revealed tanned and muscular forearms. However, instead of looking frumpy and disheveled in his rumpled khakis, he looked, casual, easygoing and…well…hot. Dark blond hair brushed his collar, longer than she usually cared for in a guy, but somehow he made it work. If a central casting call had been for "Sexy California Surfer," he would have the job. She wondered if the European motorcycle she'd seen coming in that morning belonged to him and figured it did. Not usually her type, something compelled her to keep watching him. She blushed when she realized he had raised his eyebrows at her blatant stare, and looked down at her phone as an excuse to ignore him.
     
     "Gang," Pam began. "Allow me to introduce Craig Robinson, our new downtown Stewart Realtor," she nodded at him and he waved a casual hand at the group. "He's spent a few years selling BMW cycles, and brings his A game to our little love nest here.  And, if we ask real nice, he just might play the guitar for us. Now, onward -- who's got a new listing?"
     
    The meeting proceeded as usual, new listings were described, price reductions announced, "wants and needs" enumerated. Sara ducked her head and tried not to think about her real want or need at that moment, when her phone buzzed with a text.
     
    "Nice skirt. R U dressed underneath in a way that will please me?"
     
    She looked up, wondering how in the hell Jack knew what she had on, all thoughts of the hot new kid across from her forgotten. The phone buzzed again.
     
    "Don't worry. I'll find out myself."
     
    The door to their meeting room flew open and Jack strode in, imposing, impressive, and dressed to kill in a summer-weight brown suit, blue shirt that perfectly matched his eyes. He grinned, raised one hand in a mock formal greeting to them all.
     
    "Jack's here to pitch his new development, and invite us to an opening party, I'm sure." Pam, announced, as she glanced around at the affect his entrance had on her sales staff.
     
    She was a no-nonsense, empathetic, and tough manager, fully in tune with the subtleties and nuances of the