by K B Cinder
A wolfish grin streaked across his face before his lips twisted. “But if others found out, they may not feel the same way. Particularly Monica. She's not my biggest fan right now.”
“No one knows or will know,” I assured.
“What makes you so confident? You think you can carry on this charade?” he asked, crossing his arms, muscles bulging beneath his sleeves. Muscles I got way too acquainted with.
“Absolutely,” I replied.
“Bullshit.”
“Excuse me?” I laughed. He was unbelievable.
“You were giggling up a storm after I left earlier.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not everything is about you,” I said. “I was laughing at Lee.”
“Righttt.”
“You're awfully cocky over there,” I warned.
“You know, it's a damn shame I can't see you until late tonight.”
“Oh, you're planning on seeing me?” I asked, genuinely surprised. I thought we agreed it was a one-time thing.
“Absolutely.” His eyes smoldered, sending more jolts through my body. Christ, I got wet from him just looking at me.
“News to me.” I was determined not to tip my hand.
“You have plans?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“Ah. With whom?” He licked his bottom lip, sending another jolt below.
“A funny fella with a penchant for sales reports and rulebooks,” I replied.
He chuckled, standing and coming to lean against the desk in front of me, looming above as his scent consumed me. “Sounds like a stud,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
“I guess.”
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Well, I guess my plans are shot to hell.”
“Oh? And what were those?” I asked, glancing up and meeting those sultry blue orbs.
“I was going to fuck that smirk off your face.”
Jason
So much for not shitting where I ate.
Not only did I fuck an employee. I fucked her multiple times, embarking in a fuck fest that more than made up for the dry spell I had. By a mile. And it was all with the one person who drove me wild from day one in Ithaca.
Now that I had a taste, it was impossible to give her up, the one-night stand deal impossible to satiate my hunger. She was my latest addiction, her body a wet dream come to life with gorgeous breasts and a juicy ass.
Watching her wander around the office was agonizing, so much so that I had to leave early after our meeting Monday for a date with my hand. I made good on my promise too, fucking that smirk off her face late that night. Many times. I followed it up by repeating the act every day that week, hoping each time it’d be the last, only to want more.
That was how men were driven to madness. All it took was one beautiful woman, and our brains went out the window, our cocks pulling all blood flow from the rational part of our being. And once you found that perfect fit on your cock, good luck. Elena damn well could be my kryptonite.
I had a three-thousand line agreement due back to the customer by midnight, but I couldn’t concentrate for more than ten minutes. I wanted my cock planted in Elena, and working out of the hotel wasn’t making it any easier, especially on the desk I pleasured her so thoroughly on.
It was just after eight, and I was texting her between lines, not helping the situation one bit. If I had any sense at all, I would have shut my phone off, but I was a glutton for punishment.
The rain pattered off the windows, a surprise autumn storm bringing a dreary deluge that made the night more depressing. It’d be a wonder if I slept at all, rainy days always bringing nightmares along with them.
A knock sounded at the door, startling me. It was late for housekeeping, and I didn’t order room service, too wrapped up in work to worry about food despite my growling stomach. I grumbled, walking over to pull the door open, revealing Elena and a takeout bag.
Dressed in leggings and a sweater, she was adorable, her long brown hair secured in a ponytail. “I brought you dinner,” she offered, extending the plastic bag forward.
I stared at her, convinced I was hallucinating. “What?”
“You said you didn’t eat dinner, you doofus,” she replied, shaking the bag side to side. “I brought you some steamed shrimp and veggies, Mr. Healthy.”
Anyone else would have ignored the passing complaint, but she trekked over with food. In the rain. The drops still glistened on her sweater. And did she really call me a doofus?
“Thanks?” It was the only thing I could think to say, my eyes suddenly locked on those lips, hungry for more.
She forced the bag into my hand, turning to walk away.
With her back turned, I was in for a show. The curve of her ass was on display, the skintight material highlighting one of her greatest attributes. I never knew I was an ass-man until I met her, and like every new toy, I couldn’t stop playing with it.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
She stopped in her tracks, whirling to face me, hiding that sexy ass. “Home?”
“I was going to offer to share,” I muttered, extending the bag and smiling.
She mirrored my smile, though she looked a million times better than I ever would. “I ate at dinnertime like a normal person, hot stuff. You know, around six o’clock?”
“Well, why don’t you come in and keep me company?”
Her hands shot to her hips, and she rolled her weight to one side, looking good enough to fuck right there in the hallway. “Because you have work to do, and I know you don’t know how to keep your hands to yourself.”
“You got me there,” I admitted, sighing.
“But if you promise to keep your hands to yourself, maybe I can help you?” she offered.
I smirked, convinced she could definitely solve another problem of mine. “With?”
“Your work, anus,” she scoffed.
I let the name-calling slide, stepping out of the way and waving an arm to usher her in. She would pay for it later. “It’s an LTA. Nothing fun.”
She stepped inside, stopping to cross her arms and glare at me. “That doesn’t mean I can’t help you. Is the pricing done?”
She was close enough that I could smell her breath, the scent of mint heavy. It was one of the many things that drove me wild about her. She always sucked on mints, the coolness giving her mouth the perfect tingle when it dipped elsewhere.
I blinked stupidly, trying to ground myself. “Yeah, it just needs...”
“Manufacturer and origin information?” she replied, cutting me off.
What the fuck? “How did you know?” I asked.
“Because our program doesn’t pull it from the system. I run into it all the time. Drop it in a document and send it to my cell. I’ll start at the bottom filling stuff in, and you keep going. We’ll meet in the middle.” Her eyes drifted over to my desk, spying my laptop and smirking.
“It’s not as fun to do that kind of work there,” I muttered, our eyes locking as she looked back over. “And I’d much rather be eating something else at it than this.” I held up the bag, waving it.
She licked her lips, her tongue lingering a second too long to be appropriate. “If you’re lucky, you’ll do more than eat at your desk tonight.”
And man was I lucky.
Elena
There is no greater motivation to get out of bed in the morning than the Chicken Dance. No matter how late I was up or how many shot glasses I emptied, one plucky chord of the song had me out of bed in less than a second. Naturally, it was my alarm tone.
Like clockwork, the damn song kicked off into its joyous rut, and I scrambled to the dresser, grabbing my phone and silencing it before my ears bled.
My bedroom was still dark; one of the many signs it was too early to be up on a Saturday, a day meant for rest and relaxation. I stared at my phone in dismay, not entirely convinced it was six-thirty already.
Oddly enough, I agreed to the early start and set the fowl alarm the night befo
re willingly. I should have fought for nine or ten, but no, I embraced a seven-thirty start time like it was nothing. Like I didn’t crawl into bed at two-thirty in the friggin morning.
Jason and I shared one of our new favorite activities together into the wee hours. We called it takeout and makeout, but it was a bit more x-rated than the name let on. Our one-date deal evolved into a mishmash of sporadic sex and dinner, but I wasn't complaining. He was cute and made great company, bursting the stress bubbles that riddled life.
On the way back to my apartment, he asked if I wanted to join him on his morning hike, and I agreed. I hadn’t been out on the trails in over a year, and I missed them.
I summoned the will to walk to the shower with one eye open, letting the steam fill the bathroom before hopping in, hoping the vapors would clear the early morning fog from my mind. They didn't, so I lathered up while still half-asleep, blinding myself with a shampoo slick twice by the time I was done.
I toweled my hair and brushed my teeth before hurrying to dress, throwing on black leggings, a tee, and sneakers, a pink fleece finishing things off. I ran back to the bathroom to blow dry my mane while dabbing on under-eye concealer to hide traces of exhaustion. Usually, dry shampoo would be a go-to, but functioning early required high-velocity water to the face.
I slapped on lip balm and a ridiculous swipe of mascara, unsure when I became the woman who put on makeup before working out. Then again, it wasn't every day I hiked with a hunk like Jason.
Once satisfied with damp hair, I plopped it in a loose topknot, bolting from the bathroom to do a quick once-over of the apartment. He likely wasn't coming in, but I wouldn’t risk exposing him to a potential depression nest situation.
Luckily there were no dishes to speak of, but there were random blankets and magazines strewn about, evidence of my totally exciting life. I got to work tidying, zooming around to straighten up.
Hank watched from atop his throne on the polka-dot armchair, letting out a timely meow at every pass, feeling a little neglected by my late night out.
“I know, buddy.” I rubbed his chin and dropped to a crouch. “Mama will spend all night cuddling your face off, I promise. You'll be fine to hold down the fort for a few hours.”
He purred up a storm, tilting his chin for more rubs.
I glanced over at the wall clock as I heard a knock at the door. Seven-thirty sharp.
Hank jumped in surprise and darted for the bedroom.
I grabbed my bag and keys, rushing to the door. Looking fresh off the cover of a fitness magazine stood Jason, dressed in a fitted gray tee and black athletic pants. He flashed a smile, something I couldn't muster so early.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Hey, you,” I croaked, sounding more frog-like than human.
“Tired?” he asked with a grin.
I nodded. “Mm. I was up a little late with a guy I know.”
It was an understatement. We enjoyed rounds two and three well past midnight. I was lucky I could walk.
“If you'd prefer to stay in, we can...” he trailed, eyeing me up and down.
As tempting as the offer was, my body needed time to recover. “Nope. We're going, buster.”
“Right this way, my lady.”
I let him lead the way down the narrow hall and stairs to his Range Rover. It was out of place in the modest apartment complex, sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of mid-level sedans.
We headed out of town, stopping to grab a breakfast of granola bars and coffee at a gas station west of the city. We chattered as the miles ticked by, teasing one another, poking and prodding. It was lighthearted for a change rather than the intensity I was accustomed to.
By the time we made it to the trail, my sides hurt from laughing.
It was an easy route, one I ran a few times for 5Ks when I first moved to the city. Relatively flat and fully paved, it was the perfect path for an out of shape slug like me.
I maintained a decent pace for the four-mile loop, though I knew I'd be dying we jogged. No longer the cardio queen I was before, I wouldn't stand a chance.
The forest was beautiful; the leaves hinting at their yearly show of orange and yellows now that October was nearing. The trickle of the brook was a peaceful backdrop, a slow and steady constant as we discussed supplier intricacies and CRMs.
Ordinary people didn't talk business on their days off, but we babbled about it with enthusiasm. I hated Croft, but I didn't hate the industry. While I loved the behind-the-scenes business, Jason was all about the front end of sales, obviously. It still shocked the hell out of me, as he didn't have the smarmy salesman side I was familiar with, more in sync with the numbers and the rush.
I felt on top of the world, muscles singing as we carried on, endorphins high as I took in the mountain air. It had been so long since I was out on the trails, choosing to wallow in wine and crackers within the safety of my apartment instead. I promised Dad I wouldn't hike alone, and I kept that promise, but not how he hoped.
We trotted along, passing a few folks, mainly joggers getting in morning miles. Jason earned a few appreciative glances from women, and I didn't blame them. Sure, I felt a twinge of jealousy, but I had no stake in him, so I couldn't be all that mad. We weren't a couple, and he wasn't mine. The thing between us was just that... a thing. It wasn't a relationship.
As we rounded the bend back towards the lot, Jason turned with a smile. “Race you to the car?” he asked. “If I win, I get a kiss. If you win, I have to serenade you with slow jams the whole way back.”
“That sounds more like I lose even if I win!” I taunted, shaking my head with a smile.
“True... but you get to see me make an ass of myself.”
Racing to the car was ridiculous and unlike no-nonsense Jason. Then again, he didn't look like a guy that went around singing slow jams either. Or like someone that participated in kart races and fingered women on Ferris wheels.
“Come on. It'll be fun.” He nudged my shoulder, egging me on. “Unless you're afraid of losing?”
“Like you wouldn't win?” I laughed. “You're fourteen feet tall. Every stride of yours is eight of mine.”
His face scrunched before sliding into one of his patented knee-weakening grins. “I'll run backward,” he offered, satisfied with himself.
“You're hellbent on this race, aren't you?”
“Maybe.”
I glanced over to the lot, at least five-hundred yards out. I'd have a fighting chance at least with him moving backward. “Deal.”
He stopped dead in his tracks. “Go. I'll give you a ten-second head start.”
I eyed him. “Why's that? Don't think I can beat you?”
“Nope.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “Cocky, much?”
“That, and I really want to watch your ass while you run.”
I reluctantly began to sprint, pulling my fleece down over my behind, obstructing his view.
“HEY! I SAW THAT!” he bellowed, but I didn't miss a beat.
I ran like a slasher from a horror flick was after me. I wanted some slow jam crooning, even if it came with sweat and a side stitch.
I made it a good hundred yards before I heard his footsteps, keys jingling in his pocket.
I dug deep, launching myself with each step, trying to maintain my lead. The struggle was real since I hadn't done sprints since college. Speed was never my strength. I ran cross-country, not high-intensity crap.
I was successful for a bit, but as soon as my feet hit the gravel of the lot, he pulled ahead, waving as he easily surpassed me.
By the time I reached the SUV, he was sitting up on the hood with a grin, not as winded as I was. “I win!” he jeered.
“You did.” I planted my hands on my knees, doubling over to catch a breath.
“You okay there, Keebler?”
“Yeah, give the old lady a second to rest.”
“I like your butt.”
I shot him a glare but continued to fight to steady
my breathing. “You're ridiculous.”
“It's not my fault you have a nice ass. I'm only appreciating what Mother Nature blessed you with.”
I straightened, rolling my shoulders to loosen up, glad that at least one of us liked it. “I was looking forward to those slow jams.”
“Sorry. I wanted a kiss.”
A flood of butterflies fluttered low in my belly, still jittery at the thought of kissing him. Here we fucked like rabbits, yet a silly kiss left me reeling.
“I can tell.”
He hopped down off the hood, taking my hand in his before spinning me in a delicate twirl like a ballerina. As I whirled back around, I nestled into his chest, hands splaying across the hard warmth.
He leaned down and pressed a delicate kiss to my lips before pulling away to open the passenger door. I climbed in with a mental huff, flustered at the simple peck. If I won a kiss as a prize, I'd want some tongue at least. He shut the door before making his way around to the driver's side, sealing me in my pity party.
“I think you let me win,” he accused, starting the SUV.
“I wish!” I shot back. Giggles followed, unable to hold them in at the thought of the brooding man beside me, kicking it to 90s slow jams.
He flashed another devastating smile as I continued to erupt with laughter. “Maybe another day if you're lucky, little lady.”
“Same goes for your kiss,” I taunted, lingering giggles escaping as I wiped my eyes.
“I already got that!” he declared.
“You call that a kiss, Jason Barrett?”
He raised a brow. “Is that an insult or a challenge?”
“Either-or,” I replied, smug as can be.
“Well, damn. I didn't realize you were so particular about your kisses.”
A slow smirk crept to my lips. “I'm particular about a lot of things.”
He sat back in his seat, eyeing me over. “I can tell.”
“Oh, really? How so?” I asked.
“Well,” he began, crossing his arms with his lips set in a solid line. “You only like to sit by the windows in the lunchroom; otherwise, you'll eat at your desk when you think I'm not around.”
