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"Did you find the report you were looking for, Bailey?" The intern grabs his lunch from the fridge.
"I was just mentioning it to Logan," Bailey responds, falling into the conversation with ease. "Logan's idea of organization—" She shoots me a teasing glance. "—is putting all documents in a pile and calling it 'sorted'."
"Just because I don't label every single sticky note with a color code, doesn't mean I'm not organized, Bailey."
The intern joins in the laughter, oblivious to the sexual tension that lingers in the air between us.
Bailey flashes a charming smile at both of us and slides off the stool. "Well, gentlemen, duty calls. See you both later." She sways out of the breakroom, leaving a trail of her floral scent behind. The room feels empty without her.
I watch her figure as she moves, my eyes glued to the sway of her hips.
It's going to be a good night.
* * *
Perchedin the plush seats of my SUV limousine, I check the time—7:57 p.m. Three minutes early. Uncharacteristic for a guy like me, but Bailey... she's a different sort of animal.
She has me showing up early, trailing around after her like a dutiful assistant, a role very fucking far from my laid-back playboy persona.
I, Logan, notorious for my I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck dealings, am now punctual?
There's something about Bailey that has me trying to impress her, and the scary part is... I kinda like it.
I glance up at her apartment door, waiting for her to come out. I can't help but smirk, thinking of the look on her face when she sees this ride.
She'll act all unimpressed, but I've caught that glint in her eye when she thinks no one's looking.
I'm no idiot.
I know what women like.
I lean back, letting the hum of the city fill my ears, while I wait for Miss Once-Too-Good-for-Me to grace me with her presence.
The apartment door swings open. My eyes bulge out of my sockets as she steps into the streetlight's glow. Bailey, normally so prim and proper, is stunning. She's wearing the black dress that clings to her like a second skin, highlighting every curve and dip of her body. The dark fabric against her porcelain skin, makes her look ethereal. Her hair, usually pulled back in a bun, flows over her shoulders.
My eyes shift from her full glossy lips, down to her chest, the neckline of her dress doing nothing to hide the swell of her breasts. The dress hugs her waist before flowing over her hips and thighs, the fabric ending just above her knee, giving me a sneak peek of her toned legs. Her black strappy heels add an extra sway to her walk.
Every instinct in me wants to claim her, to take her right there on the hood of my limo.
Cool down, bro.
I rein in my desires, clenching my fists to control the stirring in my body.
Game on, Bailey
As if on autopilot, I find myself stepping out of the limo and rounding the car's sleek form. I reach the passenger door as she approaches, her perfume wafting towards me—floral, with some spice, as intoxicating as ever.
I pull open the door and gesture for her to step inside, my eyes never leaving her. The streetlight makes her green eyes even brighter and her glossy lips even more inviting.
Swallowing hard, I spit out, "You look... absolutely stunning, Bailey."
"Thank you, Logan." She reaches for my hand with a gentle touch. I help her into the limo, her soft hand in mine. As she slips into the vehicle, I close the door behind her, still reeling from the effect she has on me.
As the limo glides to a stop, I step out and offer my hand to assist Bailey. We’ve reached our destination: one of the city’s most prestigious hotels. The elevator's doors finally open up to the dimly lit rooftop, leaving Bailey speechless.
I smirk. It feels good to make her speechless like that.
The entire rooftop, reserved for the two of us, is lit with aesthetic lanterns. A band tucked away in the corner plays soft music and in the center of it all, a table for two waits for us, the flicker of a nearby fireplace adding to the ambiance.
