He smiles and shakes his head. "Not really, though I try to set hours for myself or I'm at the gallery all night." He shrugs. "Not that I mind."

"Lucky."

"I know. We should order food now so you don't run out of time. What do you want?" He pulls his wallet out of his pocket. Is that a subtle way of saying this is a date? f.u.c.k. Why is everything so awkward when it comes to dating?

"I usually get the veggie pot pie here," I say.

"Sit down, relax," he says. "I'll get it."

"Thanks." I take a seat across from where he'd been sitting, and see that he's reading a contemporary thriller. It's a popular book, one that's been on the lists for a while now, but hadn't caught my interest. My phone is dinging like crazy from inside my purse. I had texted Erin on the way over to tell her that I'd heard from Ben, and she was already asking for deets.

I turn my phone on silent. I'll text her later, like when I'm sitting at my desk and am supposed to be doing work. Ben returns to the table.

"How's work?"

"Meh, it's work."

"Are you going on any more customer service calls?"

I shake my head. "The temp is there to take over, thank G.o.d. I really don't like dealing with people," I admit and Ben laughs. "Though I'm glad I took that one call with that a.s.shole client."

"I'm glad you did too." He reaches across the table and takes my hand, gently pressing his thumb into my palm. "Want to go out again this weekend?"

"I do," I say without even having to think about it. "Have anything in mind?"

"Dinner ... movie ... s.e.x," he says casually and it takes all I have not to look around and see who heard. Not that I'd mind, since that s.e.x is happening with me.

"I can live with that," I tell him. "Friday?"

He makes a face. "I have a gala Friday. Is Sat.u.r.day okay?"

"Yeah," I say then wonder if I should act like I have a life. Why lie? My ideal Friday night is one spent at home anyway, with fictional characters and wine to keep me company. We talk and laugh throughout lunch, and soon it's time for me to head back to the office. Ben walks me to my car.

His hands settle on my waist and he pushes his hips into mine. I can't help but get turned on. I hook my arms around his neck.

"If I called your work and personally requested you, would you get sent out to help me plug in my router?" he asks, voice heavy with innuendo.

"Possibly," I say. "It's worth a try. Because that's definitely a problem I can help you with. And my boss is out sick, so whoever you talk to won't really know what's going on."

I want him, and my lady parts that were oh so lonely until recently agree. I'm getting wet just thinking about doing the s.e.x again. Screw work. There's an alley behind this cafe...

"I'll call," he says. "Say you messed up something else and act like I'm p.i.s.sed."

"Good thing my boss is out sick or this wouldn't work," I say. "Because I'm very good at plugging in routers." Then I shake my head. "He wouldn't buy it if you said I messed it up. Not that I've done it personally for him. He swings the other way, actually." I need to stop talking. Like yesterday. I shake my head and look down, letting my vision focus on his crotch.

"Well, that works in my favor then." He tips my chin up and kisses me, leaving me breathless. We part our ways and I smile like a goon for a few minutes. Then I shake myself and call Erin. I give her a brief recap of our lunch date.

"I told you he likes you!" she says.

"It's still too early to really know," I argue and ignore that nagging feeling of dread bubbling inside me. The one that questions why he likes me. I'm just me, nothing special, nothing overly memorable.

Just plain, 'ol Felicity.

"Though," she goes on. "I do wonder why he didn't ask you to go to that gala with him. I a.s.sume he'd take a date. You usually do to fancy events."

"I half wondered the same thing."

"Half wondered?"

"Yeah," I say. "The thought entered my head but I didn't want to think about it because I knew you could take dates to those events, and why am I not his date. I can be sophisticated. Well, I can act sophisticated."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, it's fine," I insist and push down on the gas to get through a yellow light. "He did tell me he dates. Like we didn't specify that we're exclusive or anything, and he said early on that he used to-still does-s.h.i.t if I know. Whatever. He's free to date other women until some rules are laid down, right?"

"Right. And you can date other men."

"Good, since I got a line of 'em outside my door."

"Hey, you never know."

I let out a snort. "True. But it's whatever. I like Ben, even if it's all casual for now. There's always a later."

"I love your outlook," she says. "I wish I was like that."

"You can be," I say. Erin is a worrier. Stage four, incurable worrier. "Just loosen up. Or drink more wine. That's what I do."

"I had a gla.s.s last night."

"I had a bottle last night," I say, and I'm only exaggerating a bit. "I'm back at work," I sigh. "How's the bakery today?"

"Slow," she replies. "Which is kind of nice. This weekend is going to be crazy with orders. Someone ordered a five-hundred dollar Ninja Turtle cake for their kid's first birthday."

"I'm kind of jealous."

"It's an awesome cake," she says. "But that much for a one-year-old?"

"Yeah, that's pretty crazy. Don't babies smash and drool all over their first cakes too?"

"Oh, they ordered a separate 'smash cake' for the kid."

"Ent.i.tled little a.s.shole."

"You're telling me." I take a spot in the back of the parking lot, knowing it's not even worth driving up to the doors to look for my spot I had earlier. I swear there are parking vultures around here, watching for anyone a row up to move their car. Maybe they can't do simple math, because walking out to move the car, then back in, then back out, comes to more walking than just in and out like a normal person. "All right, later, b.i.t.c.h."

"Bye, hun," she says and we hang up. I gather my stuff, grab my pink lemonade, and go into work. I sit at my desk for all of two minutes before Cameron's a.s.sistant calls me into his office. I get a few stares from my fellow employees, and Mariah tries to meet my eyes. They think I'm in trouble. I can't look at her. I'm not ashamed, but I can't contain this either. If Ben's plan goes as, well, planned, I'm basically being summoned for a booty call.

That's kind of f.u.c.king epic.

"What's up, Jason?"

"Some girl named Mindy called from that gallery you went to last week."

I can't help the abhorrence that shows on my face and the nausea that twists in my stomach. Mindy f.u.c.king Abraham is even worse than the aftertaste of grape-flavored cough syrup.

"Oh, and?"

His thick eyebrows push together. "She couldn't even explain what the problem was, just that there was a problem. And she'd like you to come back and help fix it, since you installed new software or something."

Jason is an older man, rocking the dad-bod. He rubs his head. "Good luck with this one. I couldn't get a decent answer out of her. Can you head over and see if you can handle it?"

I sigh. "I guess. Want me to leave now?"

"Yeah, just get it taken care of. h.e.l.l of a day for Cameron to get sick."

"You've been busy?"

"Just one of those days, ya know?"

"I do," I say and feel a little guilty. I didn't want to stress anyone out. "I'll go now. Don't worry. I can handle it."

"Thanks."

I was hoping he'd say to leave once I was done, but it is early in the second half of the work day. I keep my eyes down as I walk to my desk, which probably furthers everyone's thinking I got yelled at.

"Follow-up customer service," I quickly explain to Mariah. "Still covering those."

Her mouth forms a little "o" and she nods. "Have fun," she says.

"It shouldn't be too bad." h.e.l.l, it's going to be good.

I step into the gallery, having almost forgotten about Mindy. Seeing her sitting behind the desk with her perfect blonde hair in perfect curls, and her perfect silk blouse perfectly showing off the right amount of perfect fake cleavage is like a sucker punch.

"Felicity," she says, lipsticked lips pulling back into what she would call a smile. "The computers aren't working. Ben's isn't working at all." She says each word slowly, and blinks several times. Are her eyelashes real? No one has eyelashes that long. Though, if anyone did, it'd be her.

"Then I better go up there and get to work."

"Yeah, you better. I thought you were supposed to be like super smart and you can't even do something simple like this," she says with a sigh. "No wonder you failed out of MIT and had to go to that little community college."

I push my shoulders back. "I didn't fail out of MIT," I say, not even addressing the fact that she insulted herself by insulting the college we both graduated from. "And it's none of your d.a.m.n business."

She opens her mouth and puts her hand to her chest. "Stay professional," she says. "We are paying your salary, after all. Wait, you probably get paid hourly, not salary."

I'm fuming, and I don't want her to ruin things for me. She will not be on my mind when I'm s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g Ben in a few minutes.

"And it is my business," she goes on. "Ben will want to know if someone incompetent is coming in. Maybe we should have requested someone else."

s.h.i.t. No, don't tell Ben I didn't graduate from MIT. He thinks I did. I really don't want to have to tell him that story. I don't even want to think about that story. "I should get to work," I mumble, and silently pray that Mindy steps on a Lego tonight.

I keep my eyes on the stairs and walk past Mindy, trying to get satisfaction in knowing that I was summoned here for fun, not work, and that I'm sleeping with her boss. I'm halfway up the stairs before I realize I'm stomping, though the black Toms I've paired with my dress pants-that Cameron says don't go together-don't have the same clacking echo heels would have.

I open the office door and find Ben near the windows welding something. I stop, taken off guard. I thought he just painted. Sparks fly around him, and the anger and frustration melt away. The door catches in the breeze from the open windows and slams shut.

Ben jerks up and turns off the, uh, welder? What the heck is that thing called? I suppose it doesn't matter. He looks hot holding it, and right now, that's all I care about.

"Sorry," I say.

"It's okay. There's a wind tunnel in here when the windows are open," he says and takes off the protective eyewear. He wipes his hands on his pants, takes a step back, and looks at his work in progress. It's abstract, and to be honest, I have no idea what the f.u.c.k it is.

I don't really get modern art, and it makes me feel stupid, like I'm missing something that should be obvious to the rest of the world.

He strides over, taking me in his arms. He dips me backward and kisses me. He smells like metal and fire. I wrap my arms around his torso and drink him in. Once the kiss has ended, he reaches behind me and locks the office door. My heart is in my throat, and the heat is back between my legs, rivaling the heat of the blue flames that were just in his hand.

"You're tense," he says and I don't know how he can tell so soon. "Nervous?"

"No," I say then wish I played it off that way. "Just a little stressed. But I'll be fine."

"Sit," he orders and waves to his chair. I let my purse fall from my shoulder to the floor and sit in the desk chair. It's surprisingly comfortable. I need one of these bad boys for my desk at work. "Relax."

I nod and let my eyes fall closed. Ben puts his hands on my shoulders and starts rubbing. Holy s.h.i.t that feels good. I can't even remember the last time I got a ma.s.sage. I think it was from Erin, actually. And only because I had a knot in my shoulder so bad it kept me up at night and at the time I was way too broke to actually go get a ma.s.sage.

"That feels so good," I moan as he works my stiff muscles. My head droops forward. I didn't stay up super late last night, but I still didn't go to bed as early as I should have. I could fall asleep like this. It's so f.u.c.king relaxing.

He's very thorough, rubbing my neck, then my shoulders, and working his way down. He takes his time on my lower back, and then untucks my shirt. His warm fingers slide into my pants and he continues to ma.s.sage the top of my a.s.s. He bends over and kisses the nape of my neck. I shiver and let out a breath. He moves his hands around to my front and I lean back in the chair, giving him access to his favorite parts.

He unsnaps my dress pants and reaches inside, softly stroking my c.l.i.t. In no time at all, I'm wet for him. Suddenly, he turns the chair around, grabs my waist, and picks me up, moving me to his desk. He's so strong, lifting me as if I weighed nothing at all. He's right there in front of me, one hand around my waist and the other cupping my cheek.

I wrap my legs around him and reach out, pulling him into an embrace as we kiss. His semi-hard c.o.c.k stiffens, pressing into my center. I slide my hands down and unb.u.t.ton his pants. He pulls my shirt over my head then takes his own off. In full sunlight, I can see how intricate his tattoos are. The scars came after a few had inked his skin, and I want to ask what happened. Maybe after we have s.e.x. I don't want to ruin the mood and know we don't have much time.

I trace my finger over a long scar on his left pec muscle and he shivers, temporarily stopping kissing me. Then he dives in like he's starving and I'm the first meal he's had in days.

His lips move from my neck to my collarbone, teeth lightly clamping into my skin. He unhooks my bra and pulls it off and lowers himself, leaving a trail of kisses until he reaches my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He takes one in a hand and the other in his mouth. I toss my head back and realize the windows are wide open. We're on the second story and deep inside the office, but can still be seen.

f.u.c.k it, who cares?

The risk of being seen-and heard by anyone in the gallery-turns me on. I've never done anything like this before. Never had someone who makes me feel so pa.s.sionate, who turns me on so quickly, and makes me so hot.

Desperation comes on and I'm taking Ben's pants off, stroking his beautiful c.o.c.k, and urging him to me. My pants come off next and Ben drops to his knees, tossing my legs over his shoulders. I go back on my elbows, knocking a stack of papers and something heavy off his desk. The papers scatter and the three-hole punch lands with a thud.

Oh well.

His mouth is pressed to me, five o'clock shadow rough on my delicate skin. The combination of rough hair and soft, smooth tongue almost pushes me over the edge. He stops when I'm on the cusp of coming and I want to slap him, push his head back between my legs, and tell him not to stop until I'm finished.

I'm still panting, head still back when I hear a little crinkle. Oh right, condom. Duh. Once it's on, he puts his mouth back to me and finishes the job, keeping his mouth tight on me, licking, sucking, flicking, as I come, contracting against him. Without giving me time to recover, he pulls me forward and pushes in.

I can't help but cry out. My body is alive with pleasure, unlike anything I've felt before. I never knew I could feel this good, be so turned on. My ears are ringing and my toes tingle. Ben thrusts in and out, with short, fast movements. I hold onto him and he takes a handful of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, circling my nipples with his thumb.