Nailed that.
I laugh at her joke, but deep between my legs, my cock is jumping at her choice of words. Damned if I don’t want to show the hot speech pathologist how good I am with my words, too.
2
Sam
&n
bsp; Holy mother of all that is hot.
I had no idea my friend’s brother was such a hottie. I only knew the hockey player they call the ‘Hard Hitter’ by reputation. Unlike my hockey-obsessed father, I don’t follow the game and was ill prepared to come face to face with that panty-melting smile of his. I shouldn’t have blurted out that he wasn’t what I expected—sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain, which has gotten me in trouble in the past.
Truthfully, I expected an egomaniac, a guy who strutted around like he was the cock of the walk. What I found instead was a guy who cared about his daughter’s well-being. A guy whose words made my thoughts go in a direction I didn’t want then to go. I’m off men for a while, maybe even forever. A relationship is not in my near future, considering how many of them I’ve screwed up in the past. Now I’m all work and no play, my business my main concern.
How’s that working out for you, Sam?
Not great, judging by the way my body reacted when faced with six feet of pure testosterone. A hot, dominant male with calloused hands that have undoubtedly brought a lot of pleasure.
I take a deep, steady breath and pull myself together as my office door closes with a soft click. Even though he’s gone, his scent—that of freshly showered skin—and his presence still dominate the small space. Working to clear my thoughts and get my much-neglected body under control, I turn my attention to sweet little Daisy as she happily babbles with the bear. Zander might be the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, but I’m not about to spend this session thinking about him.
But later…when I’m tucked into bed. Oh, how I’ll imagine all the dirty things he says between the sheets, all the filthy things he’ll demand of me.
Stop it, Sam!
Good God. I’m a professional, and getting involved with a client’s parent is anything but smart. Not that I think I’m his type or anything. He probably dates perfect women. Perfect hair, perfect bodies, perfect speech…perfectly proper.
While I might come across as that nice girl, deep down I have cravings…needs. Not that I’d ever express them. Not ever again, anyway. It was less than a year ago, after I’d blurted out in bed that I wanted it a bit rough, that my fiancé went ballistic. He made me feel small, embarrassed, saying there was something wrong with me. Nice girls like me shouldn’t want such filth. He was disgusted with me, and when I tried to explain, my damn stutter came back, making me feel twice as foolish.
He’d looked at me with disdain, his lips twisted in derision. I’ll never forget the way he made me feel. Never want to feel that way again. After he dumped me, broke off the engagement, I locked up my longings, buried my cravings, and put my focus into my business.
Truthfully, when it comes to relationships, I have a penchant for ruining them. Before my fiancé, I once blurted out that I loved the guy I’d been seeing. That sent him running. And before him, the guy I’d been dating said I didn’t pay him enough attention. I’d been studying too much, apparently, and failed to create work/life/balance.
Yeah, I’m a screw up.
Now, relationships are not on my agenda. Since I can’t quite figure out the whole balance thing, my entire focus is on work—growing my business so I can pay down my student loans and still make my mortgage payments.
“Daisy, I see you found Mr. Giggles.”
“Mr. Giggles,” she says her ‘s’ coming out at a ‘th’.
I drop down onto the floor next to her and for the next half hour, spend some time getting to know her. From the other room, I hear my front door open, the screen door clanging shut. I’m guessing Daisy’s father must have gotten bored with the magazines and decided to get a breath of fresh air. Not that I can blame him. It’s a beautiful day. I spend the rest of our time practicing a few more enunciation games with Daisy, then climb to my feet.
“Want to go see what Daddy’s up to?” I ask her.
She gives me a smile and nods her head. “Daddy said he would get me an ice cream later.”
I check my watch. It’s late afternoon, and Daisy was my last client of the day. “Well aren’t you a lucky girl.” I open the door to the office. “What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?”
“Chocolate.”
A girl after my own heart. “Me too,” I say and lead her down the hall.
But when I spot Zander at my front door, screwdriver in his hand and fixing my hinges, I stop dead in my tracks.
“What…what are you doing?” I ask.
He glances at me over his shoulder, his eyes lingering a moment too long, then he grins and says, “Fixing your door. I hope you don’t mind?”