There was a long pause on the other end of the buzzer and for the second time since I had reached the warehouse, I tried to drum up the courage to not walk away.
“Wait just a second.”
Less than a minute later the heavy door swung open, revealing what was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. He towered over me, clad in only a pair of dark jeans and a torso full of colorful tattoos. His dark brown hair sat unruly on top of his head and his handsome face was covered with a short, soft-looking beard. The man gave off an aura of pure confidence, something that, unlike most of the attractive men I had encountered in my lifetime, seemed almost unwavering.
His dark green eyes peered down into mine, making my tongue feel dry and heavy in my mouth. I suddenly felt heated in a very unfamiliar way. This time, the sweat on my palms was caused by something foreign and not at all by the murky Miami atmosphere.
“Hi.” A singular greeting was all I could manage and even that sounded pathetic.
The man raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You comin’ in or what?”
Somehow, I found my footing and stumbled into the warehouse, my nervousness momentarily forgotten as I took in my surroundings.
The e
ntire back wall of the warehouse seemed to have been replaced with collapsing glass windows that opened up to let the dusky purple sunset bleed into the large, open space of the building. The floor was covered equally by a dirty white tarp and plentiful paint splatters. While the room itself was littered with paintings and various artistic structures. It, just like its owner, was like nothing I had ever seen.
“You like it,” he said.
“I’m… It’s…” I couldn’t seem to find the words to describe how I felt about the place. “I don’t know your name, yet!” I blurted out instead.
“Dex Quinn.” He reached out to grab my arm, spinning me around to face him. Gooseflesh quickly followed the rough hands he laid on my skin.
“It’s nice to meet you, Dex.” I reached my hand out to initiate a polite handshake, but he ignored it.
“You don’t know who I am?”
“Am I supposed to?” I didn’t mean to be rude, but while it was obvious that he was an artist I had never been too interested in the art world.
He paused again, looking at me curiously for a few seconds. Unlike the sickly gaze of my landlord this morning, the heated stare from Dex sent a chill up my spine for a completely different reason. It made me feel nervous and needy at the same time, two feelings that I couldn’t remember feeling together before. I couldn’t decide whether I hated it, or enjoyed it.
I started to speak again but he raised a hand to stop me.
“You’ll do. Be here tomorrow morning at 8. Dress casually.” With that, he walked further into the warehouse, leaving me behind.
“Oh, and Rosie,” He turned around once more, that gorgeous smirk back on his face. “Don’t be late.”
I quietly made my way back out onto the street, my cheeks flushing with blood in time with the harsh thumping of my heart.
He called me Rosie.
2
Dex
Rosaline Reed. Rose. Rosie. The sound of her name sat heavily on my tongue, and her gorgeous as fuck image remained in my head, even hours after she left my presence. I wasn’t sure if it was her obvious appreciation for my studio or the sight of her deliciously body covered in a pink form-fitting, knee-length dress and a pair of sexy little black heels that made me imagine her under me. Probably a healthy mixture of both.
I knew it was irresponsible to hire her, I should have gone with the nice, older lady I had interviewed earlier, not some young piece of ass that I hadn’t even bothered to interview. Thinking back to the way her plump, creamy thighs looked in that dress and knowing that if she lasted long enough for me to get a taste of her, I wouldn’t regret it.
The next morning, she showed up to the warehouse 15 minutes early, a fact I couldn’t help but be pleased about.
After I let her in, I took another minute to look her over, pleased that nothing had changed since the last time I’d seen her. Her straight, dirty blonde hair fell all around her shoulders and her gorgeous brown eyes shone brightly in the morning light coming in the windows. She wore a skintight pair of jeans and flimsy little t-shirt for her first day of work. I couldn’t decide which ensemble I liked better on her, the dress or the jeans.
“So I guess it’s time for the introductory course, huh?” Her sweet voice broke our silence.
“Not that I’m complaining of course,” she continued to babble at my silence. “It’s just a little weird, kind of makes it seem like you have ulterior motives.”
I took a step closer to her, looking down at her, taking in the fresh, clean scent of her body. “Do you want me to give you an interview, Rosie?” I leaned down a bit to stare into her deep brown eyes. “Because my interview process is a little intensive.” My eyes dragged down to her long, exposed neck. “I’m not sure a little thing like you could handle it.”