A salt-and-vinegar chip froze halfway to my mouth, coating my keyboard in crumbs.
I could lose my virginity. That was a place to start.
I wasn’t going to let Lloyd Exeter control me anymore. He might have destroyed my life once, but I wasn’t going to let him keep doing it. I wasn’t going to keep sabotaging my own happiness because of him.
That little bit of determination turned my whole day around. As I fiddled with my tools, adjusting pieces on the first-gen prototype we’d been building for months now, my mind raced.
First thought? Ask Hudson. Just walk up and sayHey, I’d like to fuck, would you also be interested in that?Best-case scenario: hot losing-my-virginity-in-my-office story. Worst case: sexual harassment lawsuit.
Yeah, that was out. It was too Fluorine Scout. Too messy. Every time my mind drifted to him as a potential partner, I immediately came up with dozens of reasons why I absolutely should not.
So I holed away until everyone left the office that night. When I was sure I was alone, I fired up my laptop and did a quick google.
How to find a one-night stand
That was cleaner than fucking my office crush, anyway. Simple. Easy to walk away from. A one-night stand to remove my cloak of virginhood, then back to normal life.
However, the results that popped up required way more effort than I cared to give. I mean, really. Go to a bar? Hook up with some rando at a club? Nope. I amended my search.
Non-creepy hookup apps
No, that wasn’t any good. I deleted and tried again.
How to find a non-creepy, handsome, funny, gentle, caring guy to lose your virginity to in a no-strings, safe, pleasurable, exciting, satisfying one-night stand
Color me shocked. That extremely specific search didn’t generate a single useful answer.
I scrolled anyway. Someone had to have some idea of how I could rid myself of this meddlesome virginity.
Wasn’t there anyone in the entire world who would just dick me down?
“Hey, boss.”
Shit!
I jumped out of my chair, scrambling. As if conjured by my earlier, horny thoughts about him taking my V-card right here, Hudson stood in the doorway, looking every bit as sexy as he did in my completely impossible fantasies.
“Hudson! What are you—what are you still doing here?”
Everyone else had gone home ages ago, content to leave me with the late-night toil. It was unfair how good he looked after fourteen hours in the office—and how a little uncertain furrow in his brow only accentuated his natural appeal. “Is now not a good time? I’m sorry, I can come back…”
He trailed off as his eyes drifted over my shoulder. To my computer screen. Which displayed a hot-nude-male-torso-laden landing page for a discreet hookup website.
My stomach dropped.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“And what it looks like is none of my business,” Hudson said with a reassuring and knowing expression that instantly set me at ease.
“Right,” I said quickly. But then a weird pang struck me. Yeah, my sex life wasn’t Hudson’s business. Another tally in thenever gonna happencolumn. Bummer. “Right. How are your shoes after last night? I’m sorry about that, really.”
“They’re washable. Gotta love these innovations in sneaker technology, huh?”
I breathed a laugh, but I’m sure it wasn’t convincing. To have Hudson barge in on my digital sex safari—especially when he was the one I really wanted—was too much. It reminded me of that night in Cleveland, when I fantasized to the thought of him well into the early hours of the morning, only to have him come to my dildo rescue the next day.
“I can go, if you want,” he offered. “I was just getting ready to head out, but I saw your light on, and I just thought—I wanted to check on you. See if you’re all right after last night.”
“Yeah. I’m all right,” I lied, lying like a lying liar would.Just act natural.“Why d’you ask?”
