Eventually, the alcohol starts to flow, and people mingle more. Conversation shifts from what everybody did to help land the contract to more general matters, and my immediate coworkers start bringing me into groups for introductions.
Still, it’s not the way I would like to meet people. Everybody is too focused on the celebration and having a good time to discuss work. I want to stand out among my coworkers, but a party isn’t the place to make it happen. Not to mention that parties aren’t the best places for introverts like me. Parties go from fun to draining in a hurry.
At least everybody seems to have forgotten my faux pas of being late on my first day. It’s one less concern to deal with.
I’m between groups when I feel like somebody’s watching me. I glance around but don’t see anybody. However, the feeling doesn’t go away as I move from one group of people to another. It’s distracting in how strong a sensation it is. Finally, as I’m trying to find a group of people I haven’t introduced myself to yet, I feel it again. I stop and survey the room.
That’s when I see him.
His gaze is piercing, even from across the room, and it sends a shiver up my spine. My whole body tingles with desire. It takes me several seconds to notice the rest of him because the heat from his eyes is so intense. He’s tall, with dark hair and a commanding presence. But there’s something deeper, a brooding air about him.
He’s not my type at all, but that doesn’t stop my body from responding, panties dampening slightly. I’m frozen, waiting for him to approach. Then somebody walks up to him, and the connection breaks.
I take a deep breath and disappear behind another group of people. I need to meet coworkers, make a few friends, and try to fit in. Unfortunately, I already felt drained before seeing Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome, and the thought of introducing myself to another existing clique is exhausting. I look at the clock and decide that I’ve been there long enough to make a socially acceptable exit. I’ll go up to the third floor to grab my purse, then head home for the evening. There’s no point in getting tired and cranky at a party.
I turn the corner to the elevator, not paying attention as I am still thinking about the mysterious man when I bump into somebody in the dimly lit hall.
“I’m so sorry,” I start. “I didn’t see you…”
My words die in my throat. Of all the people I would bump into, it had to be him, the same man I couldn’t get off my mind.
Unfortunately, in my haste to move back and in the shock at seeing who it was I’d run into, my heel slips and I start to fall. Tall, Dark, and Handsome reacts instantly, arm coming around my back even as mine arms are flailing. The touch sends electric shivers through me, and my entire awareness shifts to the point of contact. It’s a burning point of desire that threatens to consume me.
“I…” I stammer, temporarily forgetting how words work. “I…”
His piercing gaze is on me again, and I’m entranced by it.
Then he speaks. “Do you have a boyfriend? Husband?”
My mouth falls open in shock.
What?
5
Axel
“Do you have a boyfriend? Husband?”
It is not the question I meant to ask. I intended to be a decent human being and ask if she was all right. But my traitorous desires somehow took over, and they wanted to know if the petite beauty was available.
Her mouth falls open in perfect surprise, and she blushes so brightly I can see it even in the dim lighting across her face.
“I…what?” she manages after several seconds.
I tighten my grip around her middle just enough to keep her from slipping out of my grasp as I’m still supporting her.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I repeat.
She gapes at me. “I…um.”
She’s not moving, and she doesn’t have an answer. Any woman who has a partner would be trying to right themselves, not leaning into my grip. Not to mention the way she’s stammering and blushing. No, this is a single woman. Either that or her feelings towards her partner are so weak as to be non-existent.
But there is more than that. She is completely overwhelmed by me, and that’s unexpected. Even those who maintain an innocent facade can usually handle themselves around a man. She doesn’t look innocent; she is innocent.
There’s no way to determine how far it extends, but I have to wonder if she’s ever been with a man. I can’t prove she’s a virgin, but I would be shocked if she said she wasn’t.
I shift slightly in an attempt to get her back on her feet, but she’s still leaning into my arm too much.
I need to leave. I need to get away from her. I don’t do innocent. It has no place in my lifestyle of casual sex with willingly bound partners in a club. Her world is as far from mine as possible, but that still doesn’t stop my desire.
A part of me is amazed that she does not feel my erection pressing against her.
I start to compile a list in my head of all the reasons I can’t have this woman. She is far too naive for my tastes, there is no way this innocent-looking woman is interested in joining me at a bondage sex club, and the big one—no boyfriend or husband means that she is an employee.
“New hire,” I somewhat remember Declan saying to Maddox.
Hell no. I helped write the employee manual, which states that employee relationships are a big no-no. We left some leeway for people from different departments, but, as one of the co-founders, all employees should be off-limits for me.
No, I need to get my dick under control and stop viewing this woman as a potential partner. It can never go that direction. I need to leave, to get out of there before my traitorous mouth does or says something else stupid, like asking her on a date, or worse, kissing her.
I release my grip, and she starts to fall before managing to right herself. I hear the quick-step of somebody fighting to regain their balance as I nearly run away.
I can’t make it to the door, and the salvation of fresh air, quickly enough.
6
Harper
Lee teased me all weekend about seeing a man so handsome I literally fell for him, right into his arms. I decided—after the fact, of course—that telling her about Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome was a mistake. Every time I would almost have his cut jaw or the heat of his arm as he held me out of my mind, she would say something that would bring him back into focus.
And how I squirm whenever I think about him for too long. It is like a switch in my brain attaches thoughts of him directly to my pussy, which is all too eager to allow him in.
Even my bastard of a cheating ex hadn’t been able to make me wet by merely existing. Not that he hadn’t tried in other ways. He’d tell me about how good it would feel, or that we were in it for the long haul, so why hold back. Sometimes he’d try pity, telling me how hard it was on him to wait for me to be ready, or telling me about how a man has needs that only a woman can fulfill.
The more I look back, the more I think that my virginity is extra points on the scorecard men like him kept. He’d seemed serious at first, treating me right and avoiding the topic of sex as I’d asked. But after a month, he started mentioning how it was the next step in our relationship. Two months in, he tried to tell me that he couldn’t wait to feel me, and I’d regret not having sex sooner. The longer we were together, the more ways he tried to push the point, and in six months, I was ready. We headed to a party. I would drink enough to chase the nerves away but not so much as to be unable to consent, and I’d give him my virginity.