Fling
Page 6
“Sandra, your legs! I’d kill to have long legs like yours. You have to wear that skirt. I insist,” Everly gushes a minute later when I slip out of the bathroom.
“You think?” I question, walking back into the bathroom to look at my reflection again. “I’m taller than you. This is really short on me.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re welcome. Now take off your shirt.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just the shirt under your jacket. Then put the jacket back on.”
“Um, you want me to go to the party without a shirt?”
“Just do it,” Chloe says, walking over from the window. “Or we’re never leaving this room. Trust me.”
I glance between them and realize they’re serious. I open my mouth to protest, but Chloe shakes her head. “I’ve been best friends with Everly since forever. Trust me, we are literally not leaving this apartment until she gets her way.”
That’s how I end up in nothing but a too-short skirt and a blazer. Everly sexes up my hair too.
“She’s setting you up, you know that, right?” Chloe asks.
“I’m not setting anyone up,” Everly quickly denies with a shake of her head. “I’m not. I’m merely creating opportunities.”
They bicker about what creating opportunities means before Chloe turns back and asks me what his name is.
“His name is Gabe,” Everly answers for me as we walk back to the party. “He’s not her boss, because I’m dating her boss and that would be super awkward, but he’s a vice-president at Clemens Corporation, which makes it a little bit naughty, don’t you think?” She seems delighted by the prospect. “Sandra wants to do dirty, dirty things with him on his desk.”
“How could you possibly know that? You’ve seen us together one time.” I’m positive I’m beet red. If it was obvious to Everly—and she doesn’t even know about that stupid sex quiz—it must be obvious to other people.
“I’m observant.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.
It’s a big deal. Am I this obvious to Gabe too? I mean, when I’m not leaving notes around about wanting to have sex with him. That was fairly obvious. But the rest of the time?
“I’m not his type,” I say.
“We’ll see about that,” Everly responds, all confidence. We’re mere steps into the hotel lobby when I see him. God, he looks good. He’s across the lobby waiting for an elevator to the party space on the second floor, his gaze on the display over the elevator doors.
I take the opportunity to look him over. He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. Tall enough to make me feel tiny next to him, which isn’t easy when you’re five eight. I’d guess he’s got at least half a foot on me. He’s in a suit tonight, black. He doesn’t wear a suit every day to work; he’s apt to show up in jeans just as often, yet somehow he still manages to exude authority, no matter what he’s wearing. And the glasses. They kill me. Thick-rimmed glasses that should be nerdy, but holy hell, are anything but on him.
My ogling is interrupted because Everly spots him too and then she’s calling out his name and waving.
Four
Gabe I can’t remember the last time I was alone on New Year’s Eve. Never, possibly. I had options for tonight—too many options, truth be told. None of them interested me, my thoughts distracted by a shy blonde who may or may not even be interested. Fuck. I haven’t been this uncertain of a woman since high school. Hell, even then they made it easy for me.
Sandra isn’t easy. By any definition. And then there’s Sawyer. I don’t think he’s fucking around with me about staying away from her. His opinion doesn’t dictate my life, but how far do I want to push this? Is a quick fling with the alluring Miss Adams worth pissing Sawyer off? Not really. When it ends will she be okay with seeing me every day at work? It’s never been a problem for me before, but I find myself thinking that Sandra isn’t like my normal workplace tryst.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear my name called out, the sound loud against the marble flooring of the Ritz-Carlton lobby. I eye the elevator that’s just opened before me and wipe the annoyed expression off my face before I turn around. I was seconds away from the safety of the party—surrounded by people. Now I’m stuck alone with whoever is yelling for me when I already know that I’m not interested. My feelings are confirmed when she adds, “Yoo-hoo, Gabe,” as I’m turning. Jesus Christ. Yoo-hoo? Is this chick serious?
I turn and find it’s not one woman, but three. I don’t normally get hit on in threes, but I can’t say it’s never happened. Do I know the woman who’s calling my name and waving? I think I’ve seen her before but I can’t place her. It’s probably someone from advertising. That entire group is so fucking annoying. Do I know any of these women? I smile my friendly smile and glance at the two women she’s with. A pretty girl with auburn hair and a knock-out blonde. No, not a knock-out blonde. Fuck me, that’s Sandra, a barely dressed version of Sandra. Fucking hell.
They reach me and Sandra introduces me to the other two: Sawyer’s girlfriend and the girlfriend’s friend, I’m told. I’m not that interested in introductions, not when Sandra’s wearing a goddamned skirt a good eight inches shorter than anything I’ve ever seen her in. She’s wearing a blazer over it, bare underneath. It’s buttoned, but there’s enough skin exposed that I know if I slipped my hand inside to cup her tit I’d find she’s not wearing a bra. Fuck, now that image is in my head.
“So you came alone?” Everly asks, interrupting my contemplation of Sandra’s clothing, or lack thereof. She’s nosey, this one. I’m going to venture a guess that she’s a bit bossy as well.
“I did,” I reply and watch as she has some unspoken conversation with the friend, Chloe, conveyed by a glance and a shrug. Fascinating creatures, women. I’m not sure what they’re agreeing or arguing about but I don’t really give a shit. How have I never noticed how long Sandra’s legs are? She’d have no trouble wrapping them around me and hooking her heels together.
“You think?” I question, walking back into the bathroom to look at my reflection again. “I’m taller than you. This is really short on me.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re welcome. Now take off your shirt.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just the shirt under your jacket. Then put the jacket back on.”
“Um, you want me to go to the party without a shirt?”
“Just do it,” Chloe says, walking over from the window. “Or we’re never leaving this room. Trust me.”
I glance between them and realize they’re serious. I open my mouth to protest, but Chloe shakes her head. “I’ve been best friends with Everly since forever. Trust me, we are literally not leaving this apartment until she gets her way.”
That’s how I end up in nothing but a too-short skirt and a blazer. Everly sexes up my hair too.
“She’s setting you up, you know that, right?” Chloe asks.
“I’m not setting anyone up,” Everly quickly denies with a shake of her head. “I’m not. I’m merely creating opportunities.”
They bicker about what creating opportunities means before Chloe turns back and asks me what his name is.
“His name is Gabe,” Everly answers for me as we walk back to the party. “He’s not her boss, because I’m dating her boss and that would be super awkward, but he’s a vice-president at Clemens Corporation, which makes it a little bit naughty, don’t you think?” She seems delighted by the prospect. “Sandra wants to do dirty, dirty things with him on his desk.”
“How could you possibly know that? You’ve seen us together one time.” I’m positive I’m beet red. If it was obvious to Everly—and she doesn’t even know about that stupid sex quiz—it must be obvious to other people.
“I’m observant.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.
It’s a big deal. Am I this obvious to Gabe too? I mean, when I’m not leaving notes around about wanting to have sex with him. That was fairly obvious. But the rest of the time?
“I’m not his type,” I say.
“We’ll see about that,” Everly responds, all confidence. We’re mere steps into the hotel lobby when I see him. God, he looks good. He’s across the lobby waiting for an elevator to the party space on the second floor, his gaze on the display over the elevator doors.
I take the opportunity to look him over. He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. Tall enough to make me feel tiny next to him, which isn’t easy when you’re five eight. I’d guess he’s got at least half a foot on me. He’s in a suit tonight, black. He doesn’t wear a suit every day to work; he’s apt to show up in jeans just as often, yet somehow he still manages to exude authority, no matter what he’s wearing. And the glasses. They kill me. Thick-rimmed glasses that should be nerdy, but holy hell, are anything but on him.
My ogling is interrupted because Everly spots him too and then she’s calling out his name and waving.
Four
Gabe I can’t remember the last time I was alone on New Year’s Eve. Never, possibly. I had options for tonight—too many options, truth be told. None of them interested me, my thoughts distracted by a shy blonde who may or may not even be interested. Fuck. I haven’t been this uncertain of a woman since high school. Hell, even then they made it easy for me.
Sandra isn’t easy. By any definition. And then there’s Sawyer. I don’t think he’s fucking around with me about staying away from her. His opinion doesn’t dictate my life, but how far do I want to push this? Is a quick fling with the alluring Miss Adams worth pissing Sawyer off? Not really. When it ends will she be okay with seeing me every day at work? It’s never been a problem for me before, but I find myself thinking that Sandra isn’t like my normal workplace tryst.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear my name called out, the sound loud against the marble flooring of the Ritz-Carlton lobby. I eye the elevator that’s just opened before me and wipe the annoyed expression off my face before I turn around. I was seconds away from the safety of the party—surrounded by people. Now I’m stuck alone with whoever is yelling for me when I already know that I’m not interested. My feelings are confirmed when she adds, “Yoo-hoo, Gabe,” as I’m turning. Jesus Christ. Yoo-hoo? Is this chick serious?
I turn and find it’s not one woman, but three. I don’t normally get hit on in threes, but I can’t say it’s never happened. Do I know the woman who’s calling my name and waving? I think I’ve seen her before but I can’t place her. It’s probably someone from advertising. That entire group is so fucking annoying. Do I know any of these women? I smile my friendly smile and glance at the two women she’s with. A pretty girl with auburn hair and a knock-out blonde. No, not a knock-out blonde. Fuck me, that’s Sandra, a barely dressed version of Sandra. Fucking hell.
They reach me and Sandra introduces me to the other two: Sawyer’s girlfriend and the girlfriend’s friend, I’m told. I’m not that interested in introductions, not when Sandra’s wearing a goddamned skirt a good eight inches shorter than anything I’ve ever seen her in. She’s wearing a blazer over it, bare underneath. It’s buttoned, but there’s enough skin exposed that I know if I slipped my hand inside to cup her tit I’d find she’s not wearing a bra. Fuck, now that image is in my head.
“So you came alone?” Everly asks, interrupting my contemplation of Sandra’s clothing, or lack thereof. She’s nosey, this one. I’m going to venture a guess that she’s a bit bossy as well.
“I did,” I reply and watch as she has some unspoken conversation with the friend, Chloe, conveyed by a glance and a shrug. Fascinating creatures, women. I’m not sure what they’re agreeing or arguing about but I don’t really give a shit. How have I never noticed how long Sandra’s legs are? She’d have no trouble wrapping them around me and hooking her heels together.
