Page 58 of Stacy Vs. SEAL


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Reluctantly, slowly, I pull my hand away and let it drop to my side. We sit down at the conference table – thank God, finally something to help cover my erection – and then, Jason and Becca start into it. Surprised, I watch Jason begin to lay it on real thick with Becca.

“So how does a gorgeous lady like you get into a business like being a lawyer?”

I try not to roll my eyes. Could he be any more insulting while simultaneously trying to pick up on a girl? But thank God, Becca’s no wallflower.

“How’s a dumbass like you get to be at a negotiating table with me?” she asks archly.

“Oh, it’s all looks, baby, all looks.”

I do roll my eyes at that one.

“Well, at least one of us got to this table by looks alone,” Becca shoots back.

I try to hide my grin. Oh yeah, Jason has definitely met his match with her. Usually, all the women fall all over themselves ‘cause they think he’s handsome, although if you ask me, his nose’s been broken one too many times for that to be true. But finally, here’s someone who will make him work for it.

About time.

I settle back into my chair and start into a staring contest with Carla, which I’ll admit, is quickly becoming one of my all-time favorite pastimes in just the past 15 seconds. As Becca and Jason try to see who can one-up the other and Biff tries, unsuccessfully, to get them to actually discuss anything useful, Carla and I engage in our own quiet battle of the wits.

I let my eyes run over her face, admiring her graceful eyebrows, her full pink lips, her adorable upturned nose. If I squint just right, I think I can spot a few freckles on that nose. I have to wonder if she gets them more when she’s been out in the sun.

Something I’d sure love to find out.

She’s staring right back at me, and I have to wonder what she sees; what she’s thinking. Has she noticed the scar over my right eyebrow yet, from when I got slammed into a fence post by an ornery bull? Does she hate cleft chins? Not everyone likes ‘em. I had one girlfriend ask me if I’d be willing to get plastic surgery done, to smooth out my jawline.

I want to shift in my chair. I want to smile at Carla. I want to wink at her.

I want to kiss her.

But I can’t ‘cause we’re still staring at each other and I swear to God, the light bulbs overhead are gonna burst any minute now.

The more I stare, the more I realize that she has these flecks in her eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. I can’t tell from here what color those flecks are. Are they black? Dark brown? Dark green? I can’t tell, and I’m just itching to know.

I break first. I can’t stand it any longer.

I stand up abruptly. “I’m thinking a little coffee might help clear the brain,” I say loudly, interrupting Becca and Jason’s debate over the proper clothing that a woman should wear to work. I have to say, Carla’s short skirt and form-fitting jacket are a winning combo in my book. Anything to get a better look at those legs of hers. “Want to come with me, Carla?”

“Sure!” she says brightly, jumping to her feet. “We’ll be back soon,” she tells the others, and without waiting for them to respond, she and I escape through the door. I can hear Biff pleading for them to start working on contract details, just as Becca and Jason start into each other again.

Oh yeah, I’m happy to leave them behind. As soon as they stop spitting nails at each other, they’re gonna want to fuck, and I don’t want to be around for that. Let them do their courtship dance without me in attendance.

I have my own courtship dance I want to do.

47

Carla

We go back into the office area of the MSG and I drag him into the employee break room. It’s day time and we don’t have a show running at the moment, so there’s no one around. I swear to god, my hands are shaking. I never thought I’d react to someone like this.

I never have before, that’s for damn sure.

“Milk or creamer?” I ask him, burying my head in the fridge, fishing out my favorite coffee creamer. Who doesn’t love Dark Chocolate and Cream?

“Oh no, I’m fine,” he says, and I realize he’s right behind me. “Should we go somewhere to get coffee?”

“Oh no, I’m fine.” I unconsciously parrot his words back to him. Moment of truth: I’m mostly telling him no ‘cause I don’t know if my legs will carry me somewhere else to go buy coffee. Walking seems to have become a questionable pursuit right now.

His hand brushes up against my neck and I jerk up from the fridge and spin around just as he looms over me, placing a hand above my head and leaning in to whisper, “I noticed.”

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