Eight Chance
922 Words
Chance…
I push up against the coolness of the floor to ceiling window looking out of the living room. I welcome the chill to cool the fire that had been set by the vision of Emma—in a towel—naked.
Shit, she’s f*****g sexy!
The outside world blurs as my mind keeps replaying Emma with her long wet hair sticking to her skin. I wanted to tug on the thin blue towel that matched perfectly with the icy blue of her eyes. That’s all it would take—one little tug. And the towel would pool around her feet as it hit the floor. f**k! Just thinking about her naked has me hard.
The towel was the only thing concealing what looks to be perfect curves. And I want to unwrap her like a gift—slowly cherishing those f*****g curves. A need to hold her kicks my body heat up another notch. My d**k jumps at the thought.
“Mr. Fletcher, Ms. Andrews will be ready in about ten minutes, if you will remain here and wait,” Brutus says startling me from my thoughts.
I remain facing the window in fear I will give him a heart attack with the size of my erection. I clear my throat. “Thank you, Brutus. I will wait here.”
“In the meantime, do you need anything?”
I mentally chuckle. Nope, nothing he could help me with.
“I’m fine. Do you still need a hand with the flowers?” I ask controlling all thoughts and turning toward
“Oh no, Mr. Fletcher. Thank you but I already handled it,” Brutus says with a bow and leaves the room.
Since when did his attitude toward me change? Just yesterday he was rude and unwelcome when he let me into the penthouse and now he is overly friendly. What changed?
I turn back to the window, again paying no attention to the busy New York life that is unfolding before me. Instead, I let my mind run free, for just a moment—knowing that in my mind is the only place I can have Emma.
I replay her blush spreading over her soft pale skin. It is an image that will haunt me. How badly I wanted to kiss the path it made down her skin.
Lord help me.
I let out a breath—I thought this assignment was going to be easy. I shift on my feet to ease the tightening in my groin; again hard for her. Damn, I’m going to have to go jack off before this s**t gives me blue balls.
Yep, she is going to be the death of me.
“Okay Chance, you can do this!” I say to the window giving myself a pep talk.
“What?” I hear over my shoulder.
Time to put on my poker face, I turn to see Emma walking into the room with a blush already coloring her cheeks.
“I didn't say anything.” LIAR!
“Oh, I thought I heard you say something,” she says as she joins me by the window. Her blush is even more profound the closer she gets.
I distract myself from the dangerous path my mind is running too. “So, did you get your –honey-do list?”
“How … did you know—”
“Rick told me.”
“Oh, yes. But can we eat breakfast first? I’m starving!” She stares out the window.
“Of course we can. Ms. May is gone for the day. So, we will have to eat out; where do you want to go?” I ask awkwardly. Just us—one-on-one.
I look down to her when she doesn’t respond. “Emma, do you know where you want to eat?” I ask again as she continues to stare out the window.
“Oh, umm, yes, you REALLY want to know what I want … sorry. I’m just not use to that, I guess…” she says with a nervous laugh.
My disgust for Rick is starting to build into a seething hatred, and I patiently wait for her answer as I watch her wring her hands in front of herself as she contemplates.
“Well, I guess, how about the coffee shop. If that’s okay?”
“That sounds great!” I wink at her in hopes of easing her tension.
Her face lights up and her icy blues sparkle. My chest tightens.
“Really! Thank you! Rick never lets me eat there. And they have blueberry muffins that are to die for.” She grabs my arm and starts pulling me to the door.
“Whoa! Hold on a minute.” I dig in my heels as a fire burns inside me seeing the light-hearted Emma come to life.
“Are you missing anything before we leave? You don't have a bag or anything. Rick made it sound like we are on a timed schedule today.”
“Shit.” Her left hand flies to her mouth and her eyes widen, making the huge rock on her finger stand out. “Sorry, I mean, yes, thank you.”
I grab her left wrist without even thinking and pull her closer to me to examine the oversized rock. She rips her hand back quickly and covers it.
You f*****g dumbass!
“I'm sorry—”
“I will go get my things,” she says as she leaves the room quickly.
- Writer
