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“I have a few ideas that you can do with that tie,” she says and bites her lip.
“Care to share?” I ask, stopping her in the middle of the sidewalk. I hear people cursing under their breath as they walk around us. Fuck if I care. I want to hear these ideas.
She laughs out loud. Is she serious? There is nothing funny about this. My dick is listening intently, too. Inquiring minds want to know.
“It’s more of show rather than tell,” she says softly.
I look up to the cloudless sky. “Why, God? Why is she trying to kill me when she knows…” I pause to look her directly in the eyes, “…when she knows I’ll think of nothing other than her naked body and this tie. All. Day. Long.”
She swallows hard. I swear I can feel the swells of her breast, her hardened nipples under her purple shirt against my chest.
“Feel like taking the rest of the day off?” I ask, struggling not to sound desperate.
She puts her hand on my chest. “I wish I could,” she says, regretful. “But we’re working on an important case right now. I have to go back.” She sticks out her bottom lip.
I let out a heavy sigh. “I have stuff I need to do, too, but I’ll have shit for brains now thanks to you,” I chuckle.
“I’ll make it up to you later.” She stands on her toes and presses those beautiful lips to mine.
“My tie and I will be looking forward to it,” I say. “Or should I bring a gray one?” Her brows furrow as she tilts her head slightly. “So we can Fifty Shades of Grey it.”
She giggles, shaking her head. “Do you have a red room of pain that I’m not aware of?”
“I can,” I say quickly. My dick is hard and my balls are bordering on painful just thinking about stuff we could do. I’m not into BDSM, but I’m all for a good slap on the ass. Or toys.
She grabs my hand and starts walking. “Come on, Mr. Grey. We can explore that room later. I’m hungry.”
“Thanks to you and your tie fetish, I’m a different kind of hungry. Starving,” I groan, loosening my tie. I can feel sweat beading along my forehead, and it’s not from the weather.
When we turn down the street headed to her apartment, I look at her, wondering where we are going.
When she smiles up at me, her eyes shine with mischief. She licks her lips and says, “I’m pretty sure I have stuff to eat at my apartment.”
Words escape me at the moment since I can’t seem to think past the feeling in my pants, so I just nod. Instead, I pick up our pace. She laughs out loud as I practically drag her. My mouth waters thinking about what I’m about to eat. She’s like a saint, ready to feed a starving man.
I hate feeling like this. Like something big is about to happen. As much as I tried to push down those thoughts, there’s something banging on the inside of my brain telling me to watch out.
People are acting strange. And I don’t know if that is me reading into everything because of that damn banging noise or if it’s a warning.
It’s Thursday and we’re really slow today. Bryn from accounting asked me to go to lunch with her. I recall our phone conversation and it sounded urgent. I’m a ball of nerves now. I’m feeling off, people are acting off, and now this.
I hate this feeling.
We meet in the front of the building. The sun is trying to peek around the clouded sky. I feel like the sun as I try and burn off the clouds in my head.
“Hey, girl,” Bryn says, giving me a hug.
“Hey. You’re looking pretty sexy,” I tell her, looking at her gray pencil skirt and white, ruffled, silk top. Her hair in a twist, looking very professional. I envy that she gets to look like a woman at work. Unfortunately, I work in a lab or out in the field. Wearing a skirt or dressing up is definitely not practical.
“Thanks! But I secretly wish I could put your CSI jacket on and walk around so I look like a badass.”
I laugh out loud. “It’s not as sexy as you would think.”
“Oh, be quiet! You look hot in your CSI jacket. You’re a rock star and you know it,” she says, smiling.
I shake my head. I’m definitely not a rock star. Sexy nerd is more like it. Our chat to the deli is easy. We both like to people watch, and New York City is definitely the place to do it. We laugh as we pass someone dressed up as Mickey Mouse. A really deranged Mickey. They probably scare more kids than they get to take pictures with them. And then one block over we have the women who are naked on top with painted breasts, and right across the street we see The Naked Cowboy. Oh yes, we are in the land of equality. Something for everyone.
The smell of fresh bread hits my senses as we walk into the deli. I can taste the sour dough bread already. By the time we sit down, I start to second-guess the urgency of our lunch. Bryn hasn’t said anything to make me think something is wrong. Am I getting ready to start my period? I start counting days in my head. Maybe that’s why I’m being so sensitive. As I calculate, I shake my head … nope, not time.
