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That’s when I noticed the glint of a wedding band on her left hand. From then on then I’d ignored her, ignored the tug in my chest at the sight of her. But since seeing her at the restaurant and then again at the dog park, Sophie keeps popping into my mind at the most inconvenient times.
Too tired to fight it, I let my mind wander where it will. Hand braced against the tiled wall, I close my eyes and let the water stream down my back. Without conscious thought, I grip my cock, stroking absently as visions of Sophie fill my mind. Her blonde hair catching the morning sun as I walk in the door, the late afternoon shadows creeping across her pink cheeks as I leave in the evening. My hand slides along my length, squeezing lightly. The way she props the door open when the weather is gorgeous, a spring breeze sending a lock of hair to caress her cheek.
With a groan, I fist myself, pulling and squeezing as I think of her. In my mind, the warm water running down my arm and under my fingers is the warmth of her mouth. Her pink lips wrapped around me, taking me in. A tingle starts in my toes, running up the back of my legs.
I throw my head back, the water streaming down my chest now, like fingers trailing over my skin. I imagine her in the shower with me, the cool tile against her back, her gasp that I’d swallow with a kiss. I’d delve into the warm recess of her mouth, her tongue captured by mine.
That damn pink vibrator I'd seen her open at the restaurant torments me. Is it waterproof? I’d run it along her collar bones, before tracing it in circles around her areolas. The vibrator on one, my lips on the other. My teeth pulling and nipping at her rosy pink nipple until it stood to attention, begging for me.
Gasping at the thought, my cock throbs with need, the end dripping with my desire for this woman. I fist it hard, tugging the way I want to tug on her breast.
Sophie.
Her name rings in my ears, swirls in the steam of the shower. Tempting me, floating through my body. She’s so short, I’d pick her up, sliding into the silky cocoon of her pussy. Her back against the shower wall, her legs wrapped around my hips. Those long fingers that fly across her keyboard would dig and scratch into my back. That sugar-sweet exterior melting before her absolute need for me to fill her.
I pump my fist faster and faster, chasing the release I know is coming.
How loud would she scream my name if I pressed that vibrator to her clit while I fucked her against the wall? Would it send her beyond the ability to form words in that sweet mouth?
What’s hiding behind that innocent exterior? If her husband hasn’t satisfied her for two years, is she desperate for release?
Would she whisper my name as she came? Or scream it?
“Teddy.”
Just imagining her whispering my name sends me over the edge. The need that’s been building at the base of my spine explodes. My legs buckle under me and I see stars as I come, my arm braced against the tile the only thing holding me up.
Shit. I shouldn’t be thinking this about an employee. I’ve been so careful over the years to never allow even a hint of scandal at Mailbox.
Showered, dressed, and fed—both me and Max—I pour myself a finger of whiskey while I wait for the limo to arrive. Max gives me some side-eye from his spot on the floor as I slide my jacket on and button it.
“What do you think, Maxy? Do I look like an orca? Or a penguin?” I hold my arms out and turn for him. He huffs and rolls over, tongue hanging. “That bad, huh?” I fish out a treat for him from the stash by the door and retreat to the couch to wait for my driver.
Forcing myself to forget about Sophie, I focus on the evening at hand. Who is this mysterious writer, Elinor Price? I've seen her articles on our company blog before, she has a concise yet lyrical way with words that I admire, even if her topics tend toward the pop culture that I avoid—there are only so many articles a man can read about his sister’s love life. But then, that must be what she was assigned to write by Lauren, so who knows if that’s truly where her interests lie?
I’m intrigued by her. I’d looked at the receipts Ms. Masterson left, she’d bought a three-hundred dollar dress and a fifty dollar pair of shoes. That was it. Elinor Price could have spent whatever she wanted and it was a fraction of what I expected.
I let a sip of the golden liquid slide down my throat, burning down to my stomach. I don’t intend to drink much tonight, you never know what can happen when going out with an unknown variable. But I have a feeling I’m going to need something to take the edge off my sudden fascination with the receptionist and help me get through another long evening with a virtual stranger.
“Night, Max. Behave.” I admonish my derpy mutt as the limo arrives. Polishing off the last of my drink, I set the glass down in the kitchen sink and stride out to the limo. Time to get this over with.
Six
Sophie
“Are you sure this is going to work?” I haven’t worn a dress this tight or this short since we were in college and the stiletto heels Lauren insisted I buy pinch my toes with each step. I’ll probably have a blister by the end of the night. The giant ring on my right hand, not the vibrator one, has me feeling off-balance and self-conscious, and my face is itchy from the heavy makeup Emma applied.
“Yes I’m sure. It works for Superman, it’ll work for you.” Lauren looks me up and down as we walk. “And why are you whispering? It’s literally just us.” She waves her hand around the empty parking lot.
“I’m nervous, okay? And I’m not used to these.” I wave at the glasses perched on my nose. “They feel weird.”
Lauren stops me as we get to the front door of Mailbox. Hands on my shoulders, she forces me to look her in the eyes. “Listen to me, Soph. You look amazing. That dress is fucking gorgeous on you. I made you shave everywhere, so I know you feel sexy under there.”
When I open my mouth to protest she just gives me that look, the one I know so well, the one that tells me to shut up and grow a pair.
“Your makeup is amazing and that updo is fabulous. You look nothing like the cheerful ball of sunshine everyone expects when they walk into the lobby. You’re a sexy goddess. The glasses just make it harder to recognize you. You can do this.”
“But—
