A Fetish For Perfection

Prologue

Natalie

Honestly, it's like I don't even play an active role in my own life anymore.

Waking up in the arms of a forbidden man, I now know for certain that I'm going to hell in gasoline panties.

My eyes wide, I gaze in pure panic at the muscular, tanned skin, dark haired, and very naked man laying beside me.

Shit, what have I done?

Sure, I have had plenty of hook-ups and one night stands, some would say that I'm the queen of them. But, this time it's different... This time I am sneaking out of a silken, King size bed to scramble for clothes on the luxurious bedroom floor of the most infuriating man that I have ever met.

A man that has made my life hell for the last six months.

A man that has made me question the person that I am, who I want to be, and what I want out of life.

A man that is engaged to be married to a woman who isn't me.

I may be a horny little shit who loves wine, overreacts and overthinks everything, but I am not a homewrecker. At least I have never been one... until now.

I guess there is always room in my life for me to mess more shit up.

Always!

I pull up my lace panties that were wadded up near the bed and begin to look for my dress.

Where the hell is it?

I hear a shuffle between the satiny sheets and instinctively hurry and grab the white dress shirt laying crinkled at my feet. I half-ass button it up and make a run for the door as quickly and quietly as possible.

As I make my way to the top of the stairs, I see a casually dressed Andre speaking on the phone in the lower level foyer. I try to shake off the fact it is the first time I have seen him out of uniform, but it is like seeing a teacher outside of class. It is just plain weird. His red v-neck shirt not only compliments the rosewood color of skin, but also his masculine physique. Andre is extremely fit, which I guess is expected out of a body guard.

I creep down the stairs trying to go unnoticed and I was doing just that; until I reach the last step. When I reached the last damn step, my foot slides... causing me to fall flat on my ass.

"Are you alright, Miss Walker?" Andre blurted, now turned in my direction pressing his palm against his phone to muffle the sound of his voice.

Horrified, my brain cannot send a message to my mouth to speak.

Swallowing hard, I pull myself up off the diamond inlaid marble LuxTouch tile that costs more than my apartment alone.

"I need to go." I stammer, before briskly walking into the elevator and repeatedly hitting the button labeled lobby.

My walk to the Hudson river is a blur. I have no plan, no idea where I go from here. If I was even going to have a job come tomorrow, or if I even want to continue working there, and I have absolutely no clue how I am going to get to my apartment without getting locked up for indecent exposure first.

That's just what I need... to go from sleeping with an A-List to being on New York's Sexual Offenders list. Yeah, that'd be great...

I fully deserve this humiliating, very public, walk of shame wearing nothing but my underwear and my heart on the sleeve of a shirt that isn't mine.

I could have stayed and dealt with the consequences of my erratic behavior, but I didn't. And I wish I could tell you that my actions were out of character, but I can't. Because, running away from uncomfortable situations is how I ended up here in New York in the first place.

Maybe I know no shame. Maybe I'm just unlucky or maybe my bad karma has finally caught up with me... I don't know. All I do know is that I've always been far from the definition of perfect. Mistakes and chaos are like second nature to me and I've always been okay with that. I've never planned on changing who I am...

I'm warning you now before you get too involved-

I'm a fucking mess.

Everything about me is.

My hair, my bed, my words, my heart, my life...

But do I give a shit?

Abso-fuckin-lutely not.

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