derek
She’s fucking spectacular.I tap my fingers on the glass-top, trying to resist the urge to throw her curvy little ass on the conference table and fuck her until she agrees to marry me and have my babies.
If I have any hope of getting myself under control, I need to get away from her delicate, floral scent and luscious curves. Ignoring my rock-hard cock, I glance over at Ryanne and smile. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have another meeting.” I wince as the lie passes my lips. “Would you be available to meet again tomorrow to continue our talk?” By then, I’ll have my hungry dick on a leash and a plan figured out for wooing my woman. Is one week a long enough courtship before I drag her curvy little ass down to the courthouse? Fuck. I’m losing my goddamn mind and I don’t care.
She bites her plump bottom lip and smiles. “I have the entire afternoon free.” My mind fills with ways of keeping her occupied tomorrow, yet none of them involve work or meetings. I rub the back of my neck, trying to clear the steamy fantasies from my thoughts.
“Let’s meet in your office at two-thirty.” I glance at my full schedule and wince. I’ll have my PA rearrange things to give me the afternoon free. I reach into my pocket and grab a business card. “Here’s my cell phone number.” Her eyes widen almost comically as I continue. “I don’t have an office line yet, and I’d like you to have it in case you need to reach me.”
Ryanne wets her juicy lips while shaking her head, and I lose my train of thought. “I’ll put it on my calendar.” She takes out her phone and quickly types. “I saved your number because, the way I’m going, I’d lose your card before I get back to my office.” I almost laugh out loud when my adorable baby girl smacks her forehead. “I mean, I’m usually very responsible,” she corrects. “This has just been one of those mornings.”
“I wasn’t worried.” I smile and assure her, “Your job is quite safe.” Well, not the position at Bent Out of Shape. I have a different job in mind for this captivating woman. Mrs. Derek Wescott has a nice ring to it. Slow the fuck down before you scare her off. Common sense kicks my befuddled brain into gear.
As she turns to leave, my eyes follow her perfect, curvy ass the entire way to the wooden door. I wonder if I can knock her up from eye-fucking alone? My cock steadily leaks cum, leaving an uncomfortable wet spot on the front of my tight boxer briefs at the thought. Her delicate scent still lingers in the room a few minutes after she leaves. I close my eyes and lean my head against the chair back, trying to bring my hunger under control. Who knew I’d find my soulmate when I bought the floundering chain of gyms?
Four months ago, news of Bent Out of Shape’s tax evasion problems became public. As the CEO of the gym’s biggest competitor, I decided to buy my competition and combine it with my larger gym chain. Ethan, my twin brother and business partner, had reservations about taking on the struggling corporation, but something drove me to persist until he acquiesced. Now, I’m pretty sure it was Cupid’s arrow drawing me into the deal.
My brother is going to have a field day with this. Ever since he found his soulmate a few years ago, he’s been warning me that my time is coming. I’ve never given his predictions much thought until Bent Out of Shape’s marketing director walked in the door. Now, I’m resisting the urge to act like a lovesick neanderthal. My only regret is not finding her before Grammy passed away. Our grandmother’s one wish was to see both of her grandsons married. “Thank you for sending her my way,” I whisper out loud, hoping Grammy hears me. Shaking off the sad thoughts, I tell myself to get it together.
After arranging for Jilly, the PA I share with my brother, to rearrange my schedule, I grab my phone and dial Ethan’s number. “Hey, asshole,” he answers, and I roll my eyes. “How is your introduction at Bent Out of Shape going?”
“You won’t believe what happened.” I lean back in the chair and stare out the window. “I met her.”
“Her?” I hear a door slam then rustling sounds in the background. “Okay. Spit it out,” he demands. “And you better not be fucking with me.”
“I found my Emma,” I tell him, knowing he’ll understand. Ethan went through a similar experience when he met his wife, Emma, several years ago. A misunderstanding developed when she went to his house to exchange a package that had been left on her doorstep by mistake. Thinking she was there to rob him, my twin tackled her in the front yard and the rest is history.
“Holy shit. It took you long enough,” the bastard grumbles. Like I’ve been avoiding my soulmate to irritate him.
“Fuck off,” I growl.
“I love you, too,” he teases. “Tell me about her.”
“She’s goddamn perfect.” That’s all he needs to know for now.
“Wow. That tells me a lot,” my twin complains.
“Give me some time to win her over, then I’ll introduce you.” I glance at my schedule and see my note from earlier reminding me to ask about my niece’s recital and decide that’s a good way to change the subject. “What time is Ellie’s recital Thursday night?” There’s no way I want to miss my nine-year-old niece’s performance.
Ethan sighs, letting me move on to another topic. “It’s at seven, but Emma wants you to come by the house before for pictures.” Of course, she does. My sister-in-law commemorates every occasion with hundreds of photos.
“I’ll be there,” I confirm. “Oh, don’t forget we have an interview for the Bent Out of Shape’s General Manager on Friday morning.”
* * *
Years ago,we opened WesCo together. I worked as a cop in our small city while Ethan ran the gym. On the weekends and holidays, I helped him out but didn’t take a full-time interest in the gym until we decided to expand. One gym turned into two and then three. Within seven years, we opened eleven more locations throughout the state. Ethan chose to stay at our original location while I quit the police force to assume the corporation’s CEO position. We hired a large group of managers to help run the various gyms since my brother prefers to spend his nights and weekends with his family instead of working overtime.
“It’s on my calendar,” he confirms then grumbles, “I can keep my shit straight. It’s you who needs a personal assistant to schedule bathroom time.”
“Is that why I’m constipated?” I can’t resist needling him. “Jilly forgot to schedule me time to shit.”
“Vulgar asshole,” my twin hisses before fake gagging.
“You brought up the subject,” I remind him.
“And lived to regret it.” Ethan hangs up before I’m able to respond.
He immediately texts me.