There was nothing fascinating about her. When he’d dug a little deeper, he’d discovered her mother was a drunk with loose morals and Lana had used to live in a trailer. The woman before him looked like she’d had a hard life, and for some reason that bothered Kent.
What was it about her that hit him in the gut?
He loved women. He loved fucking them and making them scream his name, but he also liked leaving them. Kent didn’t do permanent relationships. The women he bedded knew the score. They could stay, have a great fuck, and leave at the end of the night. He didn’t allow his women to stay over, and there was no way he’d butter them up. When he wanted sex, he’d call and take what he wanted.
Jewels, wining, and dining were for couples who wanted forever. He’d taken a few of his women out to dinner in order to keep the press happy. The women knew it wasn’t anything but a show to keep the media happy.
Being a businessman wasn’t about being a nice guy. Kent saw what he wanted, took it, and enjoyed it. He was ruthless and made no jokes about what he wanted.
Lana was different from all of his other women. He expected her to try to make him notice her. Moving her to his floor he’d expected some sort of flirtation. He’d gotten nothing. Her uniform remained the big, bulky pale blue uniform, and her dark brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. She didn’t wear makeup or spend hours trying to gain his attention.
If anything, Kent felt like he didn’t exist in her company. She came to the office floor, worked, packed everything away, and walked home.
He’d followed her home. Lana made him feel like a stalker. She’d become an obsession to him.
Clicking off his computer, he watched as she started packing her cleaning stuff away.
“It’s a cold night out,” he said, gaining her attention.
She jerked, turning to face him. “Excuse me?” she asked.
He noticed she pushed a strand of hair off her face as she stared at him.
“It’s a cold night out. How are you getting home?”
Her hand moved to her side. She fisted her hand as her gaze moved toward the windows. “I’m walking.”
Lana turned her back to him and continued packing away her stuff. He stared at her back for several minutes, admiring the lush curves of her ass.
What would she do if he reached out and touched her?
She’d have your ass down to court for sexual harassment.
“I don’t like the thought of a woman walking home. Put your stuff away and meet me at my car. I’ll be waiting for you,” Kent said. He walked past her going to the elevator. She was staring at him in shock. Winking at her, Kent waited for the doors to close.
The elevator started to move taking him down to the parking lot. His prized possession sat in the top parking space. He nodded at security and then climbed behind the wheel. Sliding his key into the ignition, he felt his baby purr to life.
He loved his car. Turning the radio off, he sat and waited for Lana to arrive.
Checking his watch, he noted ten minutes had passed.
Once another ten minutes passed, Kent drove to the security guard on duty.
“How can I help you, Mr Anderson?” the guard asked.
“I’m waiting for a woman. I was wondering if you could tell me where she is so I know how long to wait?” Kent tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as the guard clicked away at his computer.
“Sir, no one is in the building. It’s shut down for the night.”
“Are you sure?”
“All lights are off, and the security code was punched in five minutes ago by Lana Hawkins. She’s the cleaning lady with the instruction of closing up if you’re not there,” the guard said.