Thirty minutes later I’m dripping sweat and laughing as I step off the treadmill.
The voice actors have done an amazing job. The characters feel real which really added to the sense of danger as well as the humor. I grab my notebook out of my bag and take note of a couple of bugs I found and work out a rough timetable. All going well I should be able to turn the new app in by the end of the week.
I’m still smiling when I hitch my bag over my shoulder but when I turn, I slam into a hard wall of fabric and muscle.
I jump back with a squeak and to my horror I stumbled over something on the floor and fell on my butt. My gaze rises slowly, taking in the shiny black shoes, long legs and wide shoulders clad in a tailored three-piece suit. The way the fabric moves speaks of money and power, but also that the man within was lean and strong.
Finally my gaze reaches his face and I have to swallow hard.
Handsome doesn’t even come close.
A strong jaw, straight nose, wide full mouth, sandy-blonde hair clipped so it looks both shaggy and neat at the same time.
He crouches with the kind of easy grace that Olivia always has and we’re suddenly face-to-face.
His beautiful, light stormy blue eyes take my breath away.
I know I’m ogling at him but man! I have never been so close to anyone who looked this good before. And my best friend’s a model, so that’s saying something.
He’s not really frowning but he’s looking at me like one might look at an alien found on their doorstep. I can’t imagine how I must look to him, all flushed and sweaty.
“Are you, alright?” his voice is quiet and smooth, and I detect a slight accent, maybe something European.
Watching his lips move makes butterflies flip in my stomach.
He’s not just handsome - he’s captivating.
Everything about him makes me want to know more.
Who is he? Where did he come from? What would it be like to wash up on a tropical island with just him and the scraps of clothing the raging storm didn’t rip off…
I blink and force myself to breathe again.
“I’m fine,” I say, inwardly scolding myself.
Seriously, Claire! It’s hasn’t been that long since you got laid and you didn’t enjoy it much anyway.
Something tells me that it would be a very different experience with this man.
I try to get up but only manage to fall on my clumsy butt again.
“Let me help,” he says.
He holds out one large hand and I take it on instinct.
It’s a mistake.
The meeting of our hands is electric and I have to look away to hide the bolt of pure excitement that shoots up my arm. His hand is strong, enveloping my smaller one and hinting at the kind of strength that could be so gentle but also be very cruel.
As he pulls me to my feet, I can’t help the flood of erotic flashes that play behind my eyes.
I imagine my legs wrapped around him, my nails digging into his wide back. He has the kind of physique that’s just made for slamming a woman against a wall and screwing her hard enough to leave a permanent indentation.
I look down for what tripped me but can’t see anything. Great. I tripped over my own feet.
Smooth.
He reaches down and picks up my bag.
It’s an old denim and patchwork backpack that I made back in high school.
I’ll admit that it’s starting to get old and ratty but in his manicured hands it looks like an escape rope made of ripped sheets and clothes. He’s looking at it curiously while still holding it away from his expensive suit.
“Thanks,” I say, trying not to sound snippy as I snatch it back and hitch it up on my shoulder, “I’d better go grab a shower. I’m all sweaty and smelly.”
I groan inwardly.
Yep, that’s me. I’ve got all the sexy lines.
He quirks an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth turn up in what might almost be a smile.
Before I can humiliate myself any further I sidestep him, careful not to get any sweat on his suit and scamper out the door.
My sole consolation is that in a city this size, I’ll probably never run into him again…