We nearly collided as I exited the changing room. “Excuse me,” I heard a deep voice say. I looked up, but bit back my sarcastic reply when I saw him. Oh my God! He was tall, and fair, and we were at the beach, so I could see how sizzling, hot his body was. Broad shoulders, impeccable pecs, covered with a sexy tuft of hair that made my fingers immediately curve into “want to touch.” I managed to keep my hands to myself. Somehow. He was so fucking delectable, but this was a company picnic. He was attached to one of my coworkers. How incredibly irritating.
I’m sure I blushed when El – my nic for Amelia (Yeah, I know. Don’t ask!) – sidled up beside me and introduced us. “Hey Ro – this is Jesse.” My thoughts went in a decidedly wicked direction as I smiled and said something inane. Imagine the lustful leap of my heart when he responded by giving my body, sexily clad in the latest “appropriate for women of a certain age” bathing suit, the once over, before his eyes settled unapologetically on my ample cleavage.
“Face here, babe,” I said, tapping my chin, not to show him where to look, so much as to remind myself that, at my age, I look better with my chin up. He grinned. And me? I worried that my suddenly weak knees would give way beneath me. There was some appeal, to be honest, in the thought of sinking to my knees in front of him…
His turn to blush. His sweet, shy smile belied his bold glance at my tits just seconds before. I wanted to pull his head down and nibble on his lower lip. His eyes were blue, like the Mediterranean. I wanted to drown.
Yep, I was head over heels…
“Hey, Jesse,” someone called, to my left. “You ready?”
“I am,” I said, looking into his eyes, hoping my voice was as sultry as I was. I don’t know if he heard me.
“Are you playing volleyball?” he asked.
I laughed. “No.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, nice to meet you,” he said, turning to go. I watched him walk away, his swim shorts hanging just right from the hips I planned to wrap my legs around.
“Put your tongue back in your mouth and wipe your chin, Ro,” El said.
“Oh my god,” I said. “I have got to get me some of that!”
“Not this time,” she said.
I tore my gaze from the retreating form of my Adonis and looked at my friend. It was clear, from her smile, that she knew something I did not. “Why?” I asked, feeling my eyes narrow with suspicion. “I have to, El. I’m going to die without him.”
She laughed. “I’ll start working on the eulogy. That’s Jesse Winchester.” I stared at her, wondering what she could possibly be trying to tell me. “J Dub’s son.”
She laughed again when she saw comprehension dawn.
“Fuck my life,” I said. J Dub – Jack Winchester, was our CEO. Ficky-fick with the boss’s son. Bad idea. “Stop it,” I snapped at El. Her continued amusement only served to highlight my predicament. She was familiar with my escapades, and she knew I did not like “No,” for an answer. In this case, I couldn’t even ask the question.
“The proportion of this tragedy is immeasurable,” I said.
“Aw, babe,” she said, hooking her arm through mine. “There’s plenty of scenery on the beach today. Maybe you’ll find something better.” She started to pull me toward the water.
“Want Jesse,” I pouted, letting myself be led. “There will never be anything better.” I was disconsolate. Not so unhappy that I couldn’t cast my eyes around the veritable smorgasbord of male flesh on the beach, mind, but my heart was broken.
“Let’s go watch volleyball,” I said.
“Rowena. Don’t torture yourself.”
“I just want to look at him,” I said. We both knew that was a lie, but we walked in that direction anyway.
…to be continued.