I reread the message from Vince.

I’ll pick you up for lunch at 12:00. Wear a dress. No panties. No excuses. No alcohol. No argument.

Although fucking Vince seemed like a great idea when I was drunk, doing so when I was sober allowed my conscience to come into play. I wasn’t convinced it was professional or practical.

It would, however, be fun. After my last breakup and subsequent plummet into sexual nothingness, it could be a one-time treat to myself. I could add to my list of notable life experiences. If nothing else, it would put an end to my sexual dry spell.

I gazed at the contents of my overstuffed closet. I had many options, some of which would look fabulous. If he wanted me sans panties, I could rock a form-fitting dress that would make his eyes bulge.

Or, I could wear something a little more practical.

After a lengthy struggle which included trying on everything in my closet, I made my decision and drove to work.

In anticipation of my lunch date, I spent the entire morning pantiless and excessively horny. Wet, wondering, and little worried, I checked the clock on fifteen-minute intervals until 11:45. Then, I stood gazing through my office window and into the parking lot, hoping that his message wasn’t a drunken late-night text that he later regretted.

At 11:58, a silver AMG Mercedes G-Wagon eased through the lot and came to a stop in the customer parking area. Through the tinted windows, I noticed the outline of Vince’s adorable – and slightly unruly – mop of hair.

Dressed in a pair of ass-hugging jeans, black boots, and a black tee-shirt, he looked different than normal.

Fantastically so.

The shirt clung to his broad chest, all but advertising his athletic physique. In his slow predictable pace, he made his way toward the front door. Focusing on the slightly exaggerated movements of his hips and shoulders made my nether region ache, but my eyes remained stuck to him like glue, nonetheless. At the moment he reached the entrance, I rushed to my desk and sat down.

In no time, he was at my door.

“Ready?” he asked.

With a week-old contract in hand, I looked up. Feigning surprise, I met his gaze, and then gave a few overstated blinks.

“Is it noon already?”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s a minute past.”

“Oh.” I tossed the documents aside. “This morning was a disaster. I didn’t realize what time it was.”

Excitedly, I grabbed my purse. As my mouth curled into a giddy grin, I fought to conceal it and act indifferent to my lunch date.

“How long do you get for lunch?” he asked.

“An hour. Give or take.”

He stepped to the side and motioned toward the door. “After you.”

Without looking back, I walked past him and across the showroom, trying my best to demonstrate a Victoria’s Secret runway strut. Upon reaching the front door, I paused and glanced over my shoulder.

His eyes were fixed on my ass.

So far, everything seemed to be working in my favor.

He stepped around me and opened the door. I started to walk toward the SUV he was driving, but quickly decided I didn’t want him to know I was eagerly peering out the window as he drove into the dealership.

I looked the parking lot over, and then glanced at him. “Where’s your car?”

His gaze shot from my ass to my eyes. “I’m driving the silver Mercedes wagon.”

I turned around and looked at it in mock surprise. “Oh.”

He unlocked the door and opened it for me. As he held it, I hoisted myself into place, making sure to give him a longer glimpse of my bare legs than I normally would have.

He grinned and closed the door.

While he walked to the other side of the vehicle, I looked the luxurious interior over. I realized as he got in that he wasn’t carrying his bag, nor was it in sight. Normally something that was an extension of him, it was odd seeing him without it.

“You don’t have your bag,” I said. “It’s weird seeing you without it.”

He looked me over and then started the car. “I like that dress. A lot.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not working,” he said. “I don’t carry it when I’m off work.”

With my eyes fixed on the tattoos adorning his muscular bicep, I gave a nod. “I see.”

I’d worked myself into a sexually frustrated frenzy while waiting for him. Now that he was sitting across from me, I could feel my heart beating between my legs. He, on the other hand, seemed rather nonchalant for having ordered me to accompany him to lunch without panties.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked.

He glanced over his right shoulder. “Plan? That’s something we should probably discuss.”

“Okay.”

“Are you ready?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll reremind you. I’m not relationship material. Do you remember me telling you that?”

“I do.”

“Considering that, you’re willing to continue this exercise?”

I crossed my legs and gave him a soft look. “Do you remember the three types of men that exist in my world?”

He smiled. “I do.”

“Well, I don’t want to marry you or kill you. That only leaves on thing. But, don’t worry, I’m not going to get attached. I’m on a ninety-five-day dry spell right now.” I gazed out the side window. “Not that I’m counting.”

“Ninety-five days?” He barked out a laugh. “How does something like that happen with someone like you?”

I shifted my eyes to him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re gorgeous. You’re easy to be around. You’re intelligent, or at least you seem to be. How can you not be in a relationship?”

“The last guy was a little too violent toward me. I told him if he didn’t change, I was going to leave. He didn’t. I did.”

“Abusive?”

“Quite.”

“Text me his address and a picture of him.”

“Why?”

“Anyone who abuses women needs a chance to do the same to a man. I want to give him that opportunity and see how well he handles it.”

I grinned at the thought. “I appreciate it, but that’s okay. I’m able to take care of myself, and I did. I left him. It’s over.”

“You’re no longer in touch?”

“I haven’t seen him since I left. I changed my number. He’s too worried to come around me in public. So, as long as he doesn’t know where I live, I’m fine.”

He alternated glances between the street and me. “Give me his address anyway.”

“I’ll consider it. So, what’s the plan?”

“Do you peel apples before you eat them?”

“Huh?”

“Apples. Do you peel them?”

“No.”

“How often do you wash your car?”

“When it needs it. Why?”

“Do you like to draw?”

“Draw? Like on paper?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“I don’t. Well. I can’t. Therefore, I don’t.”

“If you had to drive to Los Angeles, and you could pick any time of the day to do it, when would you make the journey?”

I chuckled. “At midnight.”

“Why?”

“There’s no traffic at midnight.” I crossed my legs and gave him a look. “What’s with the questions?”

“It tells me a little more about you.”

“That was a rudimentary psychological evaluation?”

“Of sorts.”

I glanced at his bulging bicep as he turned the corner. “Interesting.”

“Now, to answer your question, here’s the plan.” He looked me over from head to toe – slowly. “I’m going to hike that dress above your waist, bend you over, and shove you so full of cock that it takes your breath away. While you’re trying to decide what the hell happened, I’ll grab ahold of your hips and continue to shove you full of cock until your legs go weak. Then, right before you collapse into a pile at my feet, I’m going to pull out. Not because I don’t want to finish, but so I can bury my face in your twat while you’re in that weakened state. Then, with my mouth pressed hard against your throbbing little pussy, I’ll suck on your clit until you come all over my face. That, Jess, is the plan for the next...” He glanced at his watch and then met my wide-eyed gaze. “Forty-nine minutes. Any questions?”

My face went hot. As far as afternoon quickies went, it sounded like a fabulous plan.

“I uhhm.” I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and swallowed hard. “No. No questions.”

“Sound like a good plan?”

I fanned my face with my hand, and then raised my index finger. “It does, but there’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

If he thought for one moment that his graphic description embarrassed me, or made me feel uncomfortable, he was wrong. I was far from a prude, and was perfectly capable of giving him a little of his own medicine.

“My guess is that it’ll take you about ten minutes to complete that task. Not knowing where we’re going, but assuming it’ll take us ten minutes to get there, we’re left with twenty-nine minutes.” I turned sideways in my seat and looked him up and down. “In those twenty-nine minutes, I plan on wrapping my lips around the tip of your cock, looking you in the eyes, and then sucking it with a level of expertise that you had no idea even existed. Yes, Vince, I love sucking cock, and I’m rather good at it. About four minutes into the blowjob that you’ll spend a lifetime comparing all other blowjobs to, you’re going to come. Right down my throat. Then, I’ll drag my lips down along your stiff shaft, taking every last drop with me when I do. That’ll leave us twenty-five minutes to get a cup of coffee at Starbucks and a taco at Pete’s. Any questions?”

His Adam’s apple rose, and then fell. After wiping his forehead with his wrist, he turned a corner and came to a stop.

“I’ve got one,” he said.

My description of sucking his cock had me ready to jump him right then and there. I ogled the muscular structure of his bare arm and wished he was holding me down with it while he was fucking me senseless.

When he cleared his throat the fog of sexual frustration lifted. I wondered how long I’d been staring at him.

I shook my head. “What uhhm. What is it? Your question?”

“If this goes the way I hope it does, can we do it again?”

“I’ll let you know when we’re done.” I said, fighting against the urge to grin.

He gave a quick nod. “Fair enough.” He motioned toward my door. “Get out.”