{Cason}
I can barely hold my excitement, having that stumbled look upon me. To be honest—and that not in a very cocky way—I kind of expected it to be like this, but every time she’s around, I mean, there’s some fuck-worthy air about her that makes my cock twitch in depression and excitement, comingled altogether.
First, after having taken a look at me head to toe, a little distastefully, (but I know it’s just a pretense, so I won’t take it to heart) she bends her head down and checks some files she’s supported on her forearm and then swings her head back to take the door, from where she came in, into scrutiny.
And I know she’s just wishing there has been some misunderstanding. That I am not the man she’s been assigned to meet with. That this is all a dream about to end soon.
But guess what?
It’s not a dream. It’s a rather elaborated plan I’ve been holding up with for these last tormenting couple of hours, while having all my crew pegging themselves away to find a girl named Keira, who’s majoring in interior design. Of course, it’s not easy (or all the way legal) to find a person just by their name in a city inhabited by more than half million people.
Well, let’s just say that I have a very insidious crew. I guess these are the perks of being one of the most successful entrepreneurs on one of the most elusive cities in the US.
But, okay. After having let her deal with her insecurity for a while, I decide that there’s been enough room for silence, and begin to push forth without breaking off the smirk on my face.
“Hello, Ms. Akerson. I see you’ve finally managed to get your way back into me again, huh?” I lay my eyes on her body, gazing from below excruciatingly, drenching on her model-thin perfect figure, and when I meet her eyes, I realize how cracky she can be. Boy, I have almost forgotten about that.
“I’m having a hard time deciding whether it is a phantom standing undesirably in front of me as if having chased after me, which I’d be incapable to carry a restraining order against, since, duh, it’s just a phantom; or I’d been having way too much poison to drink that my body rejects any attempt of recalibration and because of that my mind’s quivering into deceptive mirages.”
“Well, I’d say I cannot object to the latter. You had way too many drinks the other night. Actually, I’ve never seen a girl being so keen on booze since after high school. Kinda savage, huh? You go, girl. You go.”
I can witness her look going from befuddled to wanting to wrap her hands around my neck and strangle me. And I find that weirdly a turn-on. Her glossy cherry lips stir naughty, pestering thoughts on my mind. Her aptitude, blonde hair and all over the shop bib-and-tucker would make her just a random girl out of hundreds of them on my company. But the thing is, she comprises something bizarre I have not yet been able to comprehend on, which makes her so affective to me. And that is just annoying. I don’t want no girl having that effect upon me. I don’t wanna get tied up right against some chick and turn into a bondman reacting towards every signal she releases my way. Instead, I’m down for the opposite. I want to be the one to have them under control, make them comply with my every request and after getting what I want, let them loose. It’s always been that way and I’m not looking forward to changing it now.
While being totally taken on her silhouette, I might have conducted glares I didn’t intend on since I can perceive her eventual smirk upon me.
“Are you trying to hit on me or something. ‘Cause let me tell you this: it won’t work.”
She caught me off guard right there. I must have looked like a teenage boy being startled over his silly crush, since there’s some contended, flattered-ish smile on her face. And she never smiles to me. As for scowling, yeah that might have worked with her.
“I guess we’re way past over that. We woke up together on the same bed, remember?”
“Just because I’ve spent the night with you, or didn’t—” she looks somewhere unlocated in the air and frowns “—ugh, whatever that was, doesn’t mean you get to have some sort of prerogatives over me.”
“Um, sure it does.” I scowl on the edge of my excitement here.
I can even transcribe her ever so infuriated look upon me being like ‘what is wrong with this guy and his arrogant ways?’ and somehow from this moment on I know that she’s in the game. And that’s so fortunate ‘cause I really slogged myself to come to this girl (or make her come to me). And, yeah, more like I had my crew slog themselves while I waited leisurely for her to come in, though you get there was some effort involved here by my part, don’t you?
“Okay, I don’t know whatever it is you want me here for, but I don’t think I’m gonna be required in this place. Not sure whether I’d want to be here in the first place.”
“Oh, okay. Wait up over there. You say you don’t wanna be anywhere near me and yet here you are. Nearer than you think.” I make one excruciating step at a time closer, leaving bit by bit very little distance between us. I can see in her eyes this intimidates her, even though I didn’t intend to. Okay, who am I kidding. That’s exactingly what I meant doing it. The thing is I love how she claims she’s better off far away from me though I can see it in her eyes that’s just a dotty excuse she uses to protect herself. And I can see that with every step that I take toward her that barrier she’s built somehow is starting to crash piece by piece. And that’s what she’s afraid of—that that distance between us would come to vanquish and she’d find herself totally barrier-less and wouldn’t be able to resist this thing that’s in the air and would beg to go all the way with me. But she’s not that kind of girl. That’s what all these layers are for. Because just as I can see all these things on her eyes, she can see in mine that I’m trouble for her. The kind of guy she wants to escape from. And doesn’t, at once.
Just in the middle of our pleasantry, which consists of awkward silence set in between, Dustin, my friend, sneaks into the room with his annoying smile glued on the face that gets all the girls on their knees (to do what he likes best of them), waddling around like he owns the room. No knocking. No permit required. The motherfucker thinks he can fuck about my proprieties as if they were his just because he’s my mate. And yet, do I let him dawdle over my places because he’s my best friend? (I do!)
A huge part on that plays even my P.A. whom he’s managed to negotiate with and by negotiating with her I believe you get that he’s screwing her. And yet, you’d find yourself wondering why I decide to deal with this mess. Okay, Dustin’s father is one of the co-CEOs in one of the business deals that I’m part of. I guess that’s what gives his prick of a son the privileges to come and fool around my offices as if they were a fuck-house.
“Hey asshole,” he finally greets, ‘cause that’s the only way he knows to do it, and takes an audacious, famished look at Keira. “Miss me much?” He nudges my arm and leans against my desk, fixing his hands on the edge. “Who’s the chica?” He asks me and that’s about the moment I want to make his plastic-perfect nose of his bleed.
I’m having a hard time taming the girl as it is, and there he is, creeping in and screwing everything as he does best. But on the other side, I cannot conceal that I’m a little amused too. Her face is coruscating in all the shades of miff possible. And I just want her to realize that there’s way worse than me. (My friend, for example.) And that I might look like a Trophy Boy when compared to him.
“Meet my interior design executive, Ms. Akerson.” I tell him.
“Ooh, some fancy-ass, lawyerly words you got there, fucker.” He tells me and gets his stare back at the girl, who is looking at him like she’s needing to chop him off to pieces or something. And, really, who could blame her? I’d say I might even give her a hand on that.
Ignoring his office-inadequate vocabulary, which is the only way he can talk, really (his folk’s attempts to civilize him didn’t rack up, no matter the top-notch college he was obliged to attend) I proceed with the presentation.
“Keira, meet Dustin, my…” Uh-oh. I’m stuck right there. Do I really need to present this douchebag as my friend? I mean, despite the vicious manners and silly-boy looks he’s my mate and I love him to bits, though let’s say that he’s not the right person you might wanna present to a girl you want to impress. And here I find myself frowning. Why do I need to impress her? Dustin’s met tons of the girls I screwed and I’ve given zero fucks about it.
“I’m his mate.” He forces a smile and takes a step closer to Keira, who’s standing firmly in a non-expressible way right in front of us, and reaches his hand toward her. “In case there’s any confusion. I’m into girls.”
Keira looks at him, weirded out and doesn’t respond, leaving his hand held out in expectancy. He slightly draws his hand back inwardly and totally tries to ignore the price-worthy situation that just happened. God, I’m so on about it and I’m gonna pester him for the rest of his life. He isn’t used to girls like Keira obviously, (and neither am I) that’s why he’s absolutely hinged back by what just happened. Clearly, Keira’s not the type of girl I usually got around me. She’s stubborn and fierce, pretty and mysterious, sexy and impermeable.
“So, Ms. Akerson was on her way out.” I try to do whatever it takes to stop them from being together on the same room any minute longer. I don’t want Dustin screwing things up for me. The girl is a hard one to crack as it is. “I’ll email you the details of the perimeter, you can come again tomorrow to take the necessary measurements and swing up your ideas about my new office décor.” I tell her and she looks at me, confused. Sure she does. We didn’t have time to discuss over her work for starters here, since this douchebag sneaked up on us, uninvited.
“New office décor, huh?” His eyes are glinting with playfulness. “Didn’t you have your office redesigned last month? Is this some kind of trend? Coming up with new embellishment over such short time?”
“She’s still on a tryout-run smart-ass.” I nudge him away and want to throw a punch right at his white, wide smile. “I need to see what Ms. Akerson is capable of. Or rather, what her company can offer. We’re about to take a huge step to the fate of this company.”
“Tryout, huh?” Would it be cool, or appropriate if I delivered a whap into his stomach? I can barely hold myself, clutching my fists till they hurt.
“So, Ms. Akerson. Thanks for coming by. We’ll catch up real soon.” I smile at her, knowing that I might look like a total monster to her, or at best, like the silliest prick she has ever come across to.
She nods, holding her files on both hands, gripping steamingly, and turning around to bring herself outta this place as soon as she can.
“So, what was that all about?” I hold a firm note now that she’s not in the room.
“What was what about?” It’s so annoying that he’s about to play this game. Not right now, Dustin. You entered the room and just about screwed everything up. That’s all it takes for you to put a work in progress to smash. Your presence is just enough.
“So, new girl, huh?” he grabs some of the crackers my P.A. has arranged on the table, and is starting to champ obnoxiously.
“Yeah, it’s not like that.” I try to ignore that teasing glint on his face. For some reason, I don’t want him to think of Keira that way. And then again, what do I care? I never gave a damn about the way he talked about girls I screwed. But out of nowhere, I want him to treat her respectfully.
“Yeah, right.” He poked fun at me. He knows me way too good to play along with the words that just came out of my mouth. “When has ever the most eligible bachelor of the city fooled himself around a girl without waiting to get something from them?”
“You gotta take a look at this,” I push toward him some documents gliding through the table and he stops it with one hand. I realize that talking about work rather than, well, Keira is a more serene and secure environment for me. “It’s the Arrington agreement. You have a say on that too. But you didn’t care to stop by the office a few days earlier when we had the latent partners under wraps.”
“Nah, it’s cool. I’d sign off real fast.” He says nonchalantly. And that’s the way how he does business really. If it weren’t for his dad, I wouldn’t make partnership with his son, nor would I involve him in any of the deals that I tangle with.
But for some reason I don’t wanna go cray-cray at him about it this time, for simply my mind is rendering somewhere else, and I’ve got other occupations to sort out on my head, regarding a girl. A very stubborn, addictive one.