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What to share, what to share.This was my boss I was speaking to.
“Okay, don’t laugh…” I began. He stared stoically back at me, making me remember who I was talking to. I doubted Oden Matthews laughed frequently, if ever. “So, I was born with twelve fingers.”
I held my breath, stifling the giggle at the base of my throat. Whenever I started a new job or was at an event when there was an ice breaker activity, I always threw out this bizarre fact about myself.
Oden’s poker face was solid…for all of three seconds. But then, his hardened, handsome facial expression softened into a boyish grin as he laughed out loud.
“Wait…what?”
For a second, I marveled at how youthful and carefree Oden looked, then joined in the laughter.
“Yes…” I said, sobering. “I was born with two extra pinkies. Look, see the scars?”
I held out my hands so that the sides of my pinky fingers were visible. To my surprise, Oden took both my hands in his and inspected them. His touch sent a jolt of attraction shooting through me that eventually reached my pussy.
I gulped.
“Well,” he marveled. “Would you look at that.”
He softly caressed the small scar on my right pinky with his index finger. His touch tickled me, but not in an I’m-about-to-laugh-if-you-don’t-stop kind of way. More like a butterflies-in-my-stomach type of way. The feeling took my breath away.
I managed to say, “There you go, stealing my hands again.”
Laughter, rich and genuine filled the air, and it was infectious, so I laughed too, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
It looked like me and the boss were hitting it off.
