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How did this happen?
“Looks like you’re finally about where I am.” His hands find my cheeks and my eyes widen at what seems to be his ability to read my mind.
“What do you mean?” I stop moving, his dick still buried inside me bare and pulsing.
“You drive me crazy, Lauren Michaels.” His eyes are sincere and his long lashes make them seem even brighter in the shower. “But I’m fucking crazy about you.”
10
Vince
Six months prior
“Tell me you’ve seen the new girl.” Dax from sales drops into the chair in my office and takes a sip of his coffee. “Smoke. Fucking. Show.” He points at me and I turn my gaze away from the article I’ve been working on. I lift one eyebrow at him and lean back in my chair prepared to hear all about Dax’s newest obsession. That was his thing, fucking the newest girls and then proceeding to hide from them for the rest of his life when things inevitably went south. I tried to tell him to stop shitting where he eats but he thinks with the head of his dick and not the one a few feet higher.
“I swear I think I’m in love.”
“What happened to Rachel?”
“Eh, she was a boring lay. Man focus, I don’t know how you haven’t seen her, she’s in your department.” I frown, wondering how there’s a new woman on my floor that I’m not familiar with. I knew a new guy was coming in from Atlanta…Michael something?
“Are you sure?”
“Dude, I just passed her, she’s in this sexy little pencil skirt looking like a fucking pin-up girl. Pencil skirt, pantyhose, white blouse. If she were wearing glasses, I’d probably propose marriage on sight.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay calm down, what’s her name?”
“How the fuck should I know? She’s gorgeous though. Looks like she’s mixed with something. Maybe black and white? Or something European?”
“Not your usual type.” I cock my head to the side. Dax typically went for the three B’s— blonde hair, blue eyes, and batshit crazy. Well, four, because he’s a breast man too, and anything below a B cup wouldn’t even turn his head.
“For her, I’d say fuck my type.” He shrugs and runs a hand through his blonde hair.
“Well, I’ll see what I can find out,” I tell him before turning back to my computer.
* * *
It’s notuntil later that day, when I’m getting back from an interview in the field for my next story, that I spot a woman getting on the elevator that seemed to fit Dax’s description. She’s in front of me, so I take a brief moment to shamelessly rake my gaze over a lean pair of legs and a slim body. Chestnut waves fall around her shoulders and I watch as she slides all of it to one side, exposing a smooth flawless neck that I want to run my tongue down.
Fuck. Dax wasn’t kidding. She’s fine as hell.
I follow her into the elevator and she doesn’t even look up from her notes. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and her lip finds her way between her teeth. She scoffs and drops the papers down to her side and lets out a breath. “Fucking amateurs.”
I chuckle and genuinely wonder if she hasn’t noticed me because her eyes quickly snap to mine.
“You alright,” I ask her.
“Just lazy journalism.” She points at the papers in her hand.
“Isn’t that the worst,” I offer and her lips quirk up in a smile. I see the faint signs of dimples that have always been my fucking weakness and I resist the urge to run my thumb down her cheek to feel the tiny indent.
“I’m Vince.”
“I’m new,” she quips and I can see the playfulness in her eyes.
“I gathered. I’d certainly remember you.” I hadn’t intended for that to come out so sleazy and I inwardly cringe at my own words.
Get it together, Maddox.
