“Hey, Leo,” my guide says. “We just finished here. We’re all done.”
I pull up short, clutching my notebook to my chest as the man stops below me, putting me at eye level with him.
Eyes that are a gorgeous and expressive brown, with flecks of amber and green in them.
Eyes that narrow a little as my breath catches and I realize I feel like all the air just got sucked out of the room.
His dark brown hair looks straight and fine, business-short and neatly styled, a few strands of light brown and grey here and there, and his complexion is slightly tan. Compared to him, I look like a ghost. He’s clean-shaven and cuts a damned sharp image in his suit.
A suit I suspect is custom-tailored to hide weapons, from what I’ve already learned researching Secret Service agents. He definitely looks like Secret Service.
Did I think Kevin Markos, Christopher Bruunt, and Elliot Woodley were hotties?
This guy has them beat, hands-down. He makes those tens look like negative ones.
He extends his hand. “Jordan Walsh, I presume? Leo Cruz.”
I nervously nudge my glasses up on my nose. “Y-yes. Hi. Nice to meet you, sir.” I finally remember my manners and shake with him. This is President-elect Samuels’ body man. I believe I remember Mr. Markos telling me Leo was a former coworker of Chris Bruunt’s when he was in the Secret Service. Leo looks like Secret Service, too.
Fuck, the man’sgorgeous.
The outer edges of his handsome lips curl ever so slightly, giving him a deliciously predatory air. His gaze never leaves mine. “Nice to finally meet you, too, Jordan. President-elect Samuels, Mr. Markos, and Mr. Bruunt spoke very highly of you.” His grip is firm, and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to release my hand. “Sorry I was delayed.”
“Th-that’s okay.” I swallow hard and try to remember to speak like I know how the hell to use my brain and vocal cords in tandem.
Probably straight. Probably straight. Probably straight!
But a bitch can dream, right?
Oooohhhh, can I dream.
There is a very strong likelihood Leo Cruz will feature prominently in my future wank fantasies.
He eventually releases my hand after one brief, final squeeze that has my cock hardening in my slacks and leaves me wanting to squirm under him.
Losing my virginity isn’t in my immediate game plan, but damned ifthishunk was into me, I would gladly shred my V-card for him and let him inside me.
Why don’t we have hotties likethisin Tallahassee?
I mean, if we do, they’re damn sure running with a totally different crowd than I am, I suppose.
“Listen, have you had lunch yet?” he asks as we start downstairs and he falls into step next to me.
Swallowing hard, I shake my head because I don’t want to sound like a naive idiot.
Except right now I feel like a lamb among lions, and I don’t mean that in a biblical sense, either.
I mean it in a literal sense.
God, I hope Leo’s hungry!
Once I moved in with my grandmother, I sort of lived a charmed life. Even after I lost her, her loving influence remained, protecting me in ways I never could have dreamed of. Because of her, I was able to continue my education, earn my four-year degree, and started chugging through the requirements for my graduate degree while working as a TA. I’ve had little real-world job experience, aside from design customers, and I’m painfully aware of that. My focus has been on school, and working, and making my own way.
And as I stare this gorgeous man in the eyes, I wish I was suave and sexy and…
Well,notme.
“How about you let me buy you lunch, and we can talk for a while?” Leo asks. “I used to work The Shift and know this building inside and out. I’m sure I can answer many questions for you.”
