Chapter 3 - 3 (1/2)
With another truly irritated sound rolling off my lips, I got up and began gathering my equipment, my laptop to take notes on, my cell phone and my very necessary coffee.
Walking through the office as briskly as I could, my eyes snagged a man standing over in the corner of the meeting room chatting with Lizzie. When she looked over at me and wiggled her eyebrows, I couldn't help but smile. This man was nothing short of prince-charming-handsome, that is, if prince charming were ever an ex-navy seal and looked like he could wrestle a bear with his bare hands. That was something I had no doubt this man could do, and he had to be ex-military something, with the way his blonde hair was trimmed close to this head and his eyes seemingly not missing anything. He was almost a full 4 inches taller than Lizzie if she had not been wearing her classic three-inch stilettos. His smile was so gorgeous, it has probably been known to stop a heart or two in his time and helped to soften the hard edges of his features. I sighed, Lizzie was so lucky, a man like that would never notice me even if I ran straight into him.
Suddenly something slammed into me, causing me to drop my laptop and my phone while, to my horror, my coffee went flying everywhere. What with how unforgiving this wall of flesh was I didn't realize for a moment or two that it was an actual person. Soon, I found myself wishing desperately for him to be made from plaster as my ears were assaulted with more curse words than I have ever heard in my life.
I looked down at my coffee-drenched blouse, thanking the fates vehemently that I had decided to wear a black shirt that day. The only thing that would be ruined was my beige pants, but at least I'd still be modestly covered.
I took a deep breath and gathered all my courage together to look up into a solid six pack chest that was clearly defined through a coffee-soaked shirt. Oh, be still my heart, what a sight that was. I felt my thighs clinch as the unbidden thought of tracing those with my tongue drifted through my head. My eyes joyfully followed that rock solid chest up devouring every detail that was on display from the wet shirt before coming to rest to strong, broad shoulders that just begged a woman to rest her head on them.
As soon as our eyes met, I was sucked into his. They were dark blue and intense, and flashing right now with anger. However, I would have given anything to see them light up with pleasure and to be inflamed with a wicked desire to take me to my breaking point and beyond. This awe-inspiring man was the epitome of every Dom in all those books I had guiltily hidden in my closet, his very aura was nothing short of inspiring control and he projected dominance and sensuality that probably drew the women to him like flies. This man was Reed Callaghan, and that realization melted into me through the deep fog that fermented my mind. I could not bring myself to panic as I continued to marvel at this heart throbbing man standing in front of me.
”Are you done yet?” barked the object of my lewd fascination.
His voice rang a bell deep inside me. This was a voice I had heard somewhere before, and I couldn't help the sense of déjà vu that swept through me; all too soon like in a movie the sounds came rushing back to me and all around me I heard people whispering.
I felt someone grasp my elbow and turned to see Mr. Jones, my boss, glaring at me, his anger and embarrassment coming at me in waves. I had a morbid thought that if he didn't say something soon, he might die of asphyxiation given how red his face was turning.
”I am so sorry, Mr. Callaghan,” he stuttered out between clenched teeth.
”I'm so sorry, Mr. Callaghan, sir,” I echoed finally finding my voice.
I quickly reached over to grasp some Kleenex from a desk nearby and started trying to pat dry his shirt. Then bent and began to pat dry his pants.