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Maybe literally as well as figuratively.
As I scroll down for more information, there’s a full screen close up photo of Jack Mercury I’ve never seen before.
I hear myself making a low groaning sound, hungry. My finger tracing his lips on the screen as I lick my own. My legs pressing together as I feel a welcome rush of heat between them.
The electric shivers the sight of this man gives me every time are incredible.
I see men all the time, office is full of ‘em. The city’s crawling with ‘em.
None of them have this effect on me.
I can only watch his movies in private because of this effect, and there’s been many a cold and lonely night that’s been made more than just livable with Jack Mercury consoling me from six feet away on the giant plasma screen I saved hard for and bought specially.
Jack Mercury has been in showbiz since before I was born, everything from action to comedy and drama. But it’s his later movies, the romantic chick flicks that really get me every time.
Staring into his dark brown eyes, tracing the thick chiseled edge of his jawline with my eyes, wide with excitement by now, I wonder how many hearts he’s broken just by existing.
But no. Jack Mercury would never hurt anyone, not intentionally.
He’s won my heart without even trying. Without ever having to even meet me, or the millions of other girls and women I know must feel the same as I do.
But I still reckon I’m his number one fan. Nobody could feel exactly how I do about him.
I gasp louder once I see there’s more than just a headshot in the public press release.
Another, recent photo of Jack half-naked on a beach sets my mind wandering and my hand shifting on its own, needing to high-five myself suddenly.
Desperately.
Wondering what it would feel like if one of his huge hands could touch me down there. Touch me anywhere.
I shudder at the idea, feeling hot and cold all at once, but definitely hot and very wet in one special place.
I’m wondering how though, with that perfectly tanned body and full head of dark hair, he manages to keep himself in such good shape as well as looking like he hasn’t aged a day in over fifteen years.
At over six and a half feet and built like a linebacker, how he manages to keep so trim and muscular at the same time. All without effort and always with a smile.
That Jack Mercury, trademark smile.
Full of mystery, humor, and kindness but also a side of the devil in it. The good kind of devil, that wants to show you naughty things.
The devil that wants to please you as well as himself.
A smile that tells you he knows what you’re thinking only because it’s what he was designed to broadcast and transmit.
The man’s a walking demigod. A gift to anyone who admires or craves the male form.
And Jack Mercury has more than just form, he has function too, if that tell-tale bulge at the front of his speedo is anything to go by.
Print email.
It’s a reflex action from me, even though it will mean having to go down the hall to the copy room to get it. It shouldn’t matter, everybody prints hundreds of things every day.
But this is special.
Special to me.
Pictures of Jack Mercury I haven’t seen, as well as details on how to enter the contest.
The toll number to call shouldn’t be a problem. I can use the phone right here at the office, my own cell never having enough credit to order pizza let alone enter a contest.
Breathing a shivered sigh, I congratulate myself as I mark the email as unread, covering my tracks after all.
Article written and proofed, my dose of Jack Mercury for the day as well as the chance to spend a day with the man himself?
I never knew this crappy job could have so much shine on it, and all before lunch.
My belly groans as I make my way down the hall to the copy room.
My heart freezing in my chest when I see there’s nothing printed on any of the machines.
Moving over to see for myself, I hear the door close behind me.
The tell-tale tippy tap sound of Malibu Barbie boss right behind me.
“And just what the hell is this?” I hear her ask sharply, watching her manicured hand thrust my printed copy of her email right under my nose.
Crap.
Chapter Two
Jack
“Because your last three movies have tanked, that’s why.”
I don’t need reminding. And I don’t need another damned idea from my agent to restart my flagging career.
“Don’t sugar coat it, will ya?” I sigh, pinching my eyes closed and then trying to focus on what time it actually is.
“Jack, I’m serious. If it wasn’t for you… for me suing the papers every time they ran a fake news story trying to start a scandal, you’d be broke by now. We both would be.”
