Harrison
The elevator dings.
And the tornado of curves storms out. After shoving me again. For emphasis.
I just stand there. Like a grade-A moron.
A grade-A moron with my dick in my hand.
Her words ricochet through my skull like live rounds.
I come hard, fast, and without warning.
All she’d have to do is whisper multiple times, and I’d have been on my goddamn knees.
I drag a hand down my face, biting back a frustrated laugh.
Christ.
How long has it been since a woman got under my skin like this?
An adrenaline rush of molten lava straight to my veins. Especially my dick.
My smile fades, pulling tight.
Six years, two months, and seventeen days.
Not that I’m counting.
My brain just never figured out how to stop.
My phone vibrates, snapping my thoughts shut like a steel trap.
Only then do I realize I’ve been standing here, frozen in the elevator, while people come and go, maneuvering around me like a bizarre exhibit on loan from the Met.
Clearly, the woman is kryptonite to whatever brain cells my kids haven’t already torched.
And to my balls.
I drag in a breath, yank my head out of my ass, and finally read the text. It’s from Brian.
Iron Man
Zac mentioned you volunteered for the Christmas Bachelor Auction tonight.
Me
I did not volunteer.
Iron Man
Which is why it’s already my favorite event of the year.
And possibly my new lock screen…
Me
You put my face on your phone, and I’m reporting you to HR.
