1
Kris
I’m distracted.
Given the amount of work on my plate, I should be focused on the proposal that could change my career. But I’m not. Instead, my head is in my pants. Or rather, I’m currently thinking with that part of my body as the new girl in the office walks by my door again.
I’m not one for the sappy romantic comedy shit, but I swear, I froze when I saw her. The world focused down to her—one single point. It took me a good minute to realize that I’d stopped walking and I was staring.
Good thing she didn’t notice that.
The last impression I want to make is being the office creep. I don’t exactly know what I want yet, but I know that I can’t stop looking at her whenever she walks by my glass walls. And that I’ve thought more than once about how it would feel if I were shaking those same glass walls with her.
Absolute perfection. That’s the only thing that I see when I look at her. Gorgeous red hair that falls in waves around her shoulders. I can’t remember a time when I’ve seen a shade that vivid that was clearly natural. Paired with pale, creamy skin, curves for days, and a set of lips that could drive a thousand men’s fantasies. I can’t take my eyes off her.
It’s like I’m suddenly attuned to her. Whenever she walks by, I look up just in time. The question is…who is she? I’ve been so buried in this project that it feels like it’s been months since I looked up. Just because I’ve never seen her before doesn’t mean that she hasn’t been here for a while.
But her energy…there’s something innocent there. A purity that makes me want to corrupt her.
Just a little bit.
There’s something appealing about the idea of introducing her to a darker, more sensual side of life. Or even more appealing, I wonder what she’s like behind closed doors. There’s something about her that makes me think that she’s wild when nobody is watching. And the mere thought of that has my cock hardening in my pants.
That’s the big problem with having an office with glass walls. There’s no easy way to take care of that little problem. All I can do is try to get my body under control and wait until I get home to take care of the fantasies in my mind.
There are many…many fantasies.
Fuck. It’s still early in the afternoon and I’m already fried. Maybe that’s why I can’t take my eyes off this mystery girl. The project I’m working on could affect the future of the company. A proposal for expansion into the European market. We’re doing it either way, but there are multiple proposals. The one that gets chosen? That’s who gets the promotion, a big raise, and the amazing opportunity to guide and organize that expansion.
I’m going to win.
There are probably ten people in the company putting forth proposals. But everyone knows that it’s mainly a competition between two. Me and Meynard Brack. The prick.
The fact that we started at the same time and have risen through the company equally only makes our rivalry more intense. There’s always been friction between the two of us. But lately, he’s been on top. Not anymore. I won’t let him take this from me.
Coffee. I need coffee if I’m going to make it to the end of the day. Especially if I want to stay awake long enough to watch the news and grab dinner after I get home.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I head to the break room. At the very least, the assistants keep the office stocked with decent coffee. Today is no exception. I welcome the burst of energy that I can feel as the coffee hits my tongue. Almost like a chemical reaction. My body knows that the caffeine is coming and it’s getting ready.
A bright voice sounds from down the hallway, and I do a double take as I see the gorgeous new girl talking to Meynard outside his office. Fuck.
Meynard has five years on me. Something that he hates. Because yeah, we have a rivalry there, too. But even though I haven’t spoken to her yet, possessive anger rises in my chest. This is one woman that I don’t want him beating me to. The very idea that she’d even be around him fills me with rage.
He doesn’t deserve her.
He doesn’t deserve anything, but least of all the fresh spirit that I can sense in her.
But in spite of Meynard being a total fucking killjoy, she looks happy. Almost bubbly as she talks to him. And when she jumps up on her toes and gives him a hug, my entire body freezes. They’re already at that point? Holy shit.
Meynard’s face transforms into anger instantly. He pulls her off him and holds her at arm’s length, and it looks like he’s ripping her head off. Holy shit, that’s a massive overreaction for something as trivial as a hug. That same possessive instinct rises in me. How dare he treat an employee that way?
She tries to pull away, and he grabs her elbow, that same thunderous anger on his face. Even from here I can see how hard he’s holding her arm. Hell, he’s digging in enough that it might leave bruises on her arm. That’s completely unacceptable.
Coffee entirely forgotten, I head down the hall toward them, now filled with renewed energy. Keeping my stride easy, I approach the two of them with my hands in my pockets, and I reach them just in time to hear him finish his sentence, “You’re never going to do that again, clear?”
“Clear,” she says softly. It’s the first word that I’ve heard her say, and the voice that comes out of her mouth is both musical and gorgeous. And exactly the kind of voice that makes me crave to hear what it sounds like when she’s losing control.
“Meynard,” I say with intentional casualness.
“Kris,” he replies. He’s watching me warily, and he should. Right now, the veneer of civility is the only thing keeping me from punching him into the fucking ground.
I tilt my head and look at him. “How’s the proposal coming?”
“As well as I’m sure yours is.” The smile that accompanies the words is feral. “But if you ever want help, I’ll be glad to look at it.”
“Likewise.”
As if there was any way in hell that either of us would let the other see our proposals and risk ideas being stolen.
“Can I help you with something?” he asks.
I’m aware that the new girl is watching what’s happening between us. I hope that she doesn’t mind that I’m coming to her rescue. The blush on her perfect skin speaks of her being embarrassed. But she shouldn’t be.
“You can, actually.” I say. “I was in the break room just now, and I couldn’t help see that you were practically manhandling this employee. And over something as simple as a hug. I thought that was a bit of an overreaction and came to see if you were all right.” I direct that last part to her.
Her eyes go wide, suddenly staring at me. It takes everything in me to keep my body from reacting. Especially in front of this asshole. But I’m captivated by her gaze. Her eyes are a gorgeous bottle green, clear and warm.
Those perfect lips part, and for a second I’m imagining the way that they’ll taste before she speaks. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Okay. Just making sure.”
“Noble of you,” Meynard says, and I look at him just in time to see him roll his eyes.
I narrow my own. “There are conduct standards, Meynard. You and I both know that. I’m completely within my right to intervene if I see something inappropriate. And gripping a woman’s arm hard enough to leave bruises is more than enough.”