SOMETHING DARKER

Be Careful What You Wish For...

You Just Might Get It.

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    I lay the blazer over the sink to my right and quickly unbutton my blouse, peeling it off and running it under the faucet as if warm water and hand soap can repair the damage done by the spilled coffee. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes as I scrub as hard as I can but the stain refuses to come out.

    “Fuck!” I shout, slamming my hands on the edges of the sink, a single tear escaping and rolling down my cheek.  

    Why does shit like this always happen to me? I can’t afford to buy another dress shirt. Not if I want to eat this week. Ava might have one I can borrow but that doesn’t fucking help me today because I don’t have enough time to drive back to her place, change, and then make it to my next interview on time. I’ll just have to reschedule it, if that’s even an option. More than likely she will just tell me not to bother and move onto the next candidate because God knows she has plenty at her disposal in this economy.

    Fuck, I really needed that job. It pays more than any of the others I’ve applied for and it was the first one I actually felt confident about being able to get. But, now? Not so much.

    The door to the women’s bathroom opens and shuts to my left and I glance in that direction to ask the woman who just entered if she could give me a few minutes alone. But the words never leave my lips because the woman who just entered isn’t a woman. It’s the man with the perfect face and hair I just humiliated myself in front of.

    “This is the women’s bathroom,” I say, defensively, as if I am the one who is in the wrong.

    The man towers in front of the door, his staggering height consuming nearly all of it, putting him somewhere around six-foot-four and six-foot-five. “I know,” he says, his voice low and gravely, his hazel eyes boring into me.

    The sound of his voice mixed with the intensity of his gaze makes my stomach clench and heat pool low in my belly.

    What the hell is he doing in here? Does he think he can just walk in and take me up against a bathroom stall? Because if that’s the case, he is sorely mistaken. I’m not about to give myself to some strange man I know nothing about. Even if he does look like sexual perfection itself.

    I made that mistake once.

    And it nearly killed me.

    I take in his broad shoulders and sculpted physique as he takes a step closer, his shimmering eyes trailing up my body in a wave of heat that pebbles my flesh in its wake. It is only when his gaze reaches my breasts that I realize that I am standing before him half naked in a too tight skirt that has risen up my thighs several inches from hunching over the sink and a lacey black bra that is partially translucent, leaving little to the imagination.

    I fold my arms across my chest to cover myself and he smirks, sending another wave of heat even lower than the first. “What are you doing in here?”

    Instead of answering me, he slips off his suit jacket, laying it across the first sink, and starts unbuttoning his steel gray dress shirt.

    My breath catches in my throat as every undone button reveals more and more of his sculpted naked chest and defined abs. After undoing the final button, he pulls his shirt out of his waistband and rolls his shoulders back, letting the shirt fall down his muscular arms behind him.

    My clit throbs at the sight of his completely naked torso being pushed forward as he works the shirt off, his skin smooth and taught around his rigid muscles.

    With his shirt now held in his hand, he takes another step closer, his intoxicating scent filling me up as my nipples harden and chafe beneath the now sticky fabric of my bra.

    He extends his arm, holding his shirt out to me. “You look like you could use a replacement.”

    I hesitate, momentarily distracted by the ridges of his muscles flexing in his forearm and bicep as he holds his shirt. “You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

    He laughs and shoots a sideways glance at my coffee drenched blouse balled up at the bottom of the sink. “Your shirt says otherwise.”

    “What do you want for it?” I ask, arms still covering my chest, my body stiff and aching as I shift between wanting and fearing him.

    His smile vanishes, his eyes softening, almost as if I’ve offended him somehow. “Nothing. I just want to help.”

    “Why?”

    He scrunches his brows. “Because you look like you could use some right about now.” 

    When I don’t respond his smirk returns and he lifts the shirt higher. “Are you going to take it or not? It doesn’t come with a price tag or anything. And it’s not going to bite you. I promise.”

    Reluctantly, I unfold one arm from my chest and reach for his shirt, my fingers momentarily brushing against his, my veins flooding with an electric current as we touch before I quickly snatch the shirt and pull my hand back. 

    “Thank you,” I say, nervously, slipping my arms into his shirt and fastening the buttons. The intoxicating mixture of his cologne and natural musk wafts from his shirt, surrounding me in a heady fog that makes my legs weak and my breath quicken. By the time I get to the last four buttons my fingers are trembling and I falter.

    “May I?” He asks, hesitating long enough for me to refuse. When I don’t, he steps in close, mere inches separating his lips from mine as he finishes buttoning his shirt on me.

    My clit throbs from the heat of his breath on my lips and I have to clench my thighs tightly to keep my composure.

    “There,” he says, looking into my eyes. “All done. How does it feel?”

    “Really good,” I say, my voice betraying me and revealing how undone he has made me. 

    His smirk widens. “Good. It looks good on you too.”

    My cheeks flush with his praise and I want to look away, but I can’t. It’s as if his eyes have completely entranced me, leaving me helpless to look anywhere but at him.

SOMETHING DARKER

Be Careful What You Wish For...

You Just Might Get It.