Wicked Seduction

6 Angel eyes

Here's a treat for my lovely readers: Tom Hardy. ♥♥♥

Song for the mood: My Oh My by Camila Cabello. The YouTube clip is very much Vera. A snippet of the lyrics:

A bad reputation
Insatiable habits
He was onto me, one look and I couldn't breathe

Vera

Tuesday, April 12

Great. Fucking great. I felt another migraine coming, like a wave of pain slowly washing my brain, starting from the left near my temple.

I needed sleep after pulling an all-nighter on another sexual harassment and unfair dismissal case. My client came to me in tears, alleging that her former boss sexually harassed her and made her uncomfortable with racist remarks; he fired her shortly after she objected.

It was a good thing that she had evidence; we had voicemails and text messages, including a dick pic-unimpressive but highly offensive.

I took a sip of my lemon-infused water and removed my reading glasses. On came the headphones, and I swam into my world of music.

Last weekend was a blast, but kicking Mister X out of my bed was no joy. Not being one to cuddle after a one-night stand, I sent the boy home, reminding him to take his mask. Alistair Scott intrigued me, though-I couldn't get him out of my head.

It was nearly noon, and my empty stomach grumbled, warning me that I needed lunch. I switched the music off, removed my headphones, and opened my eyes to the view of...a crotch.

Expensive dark-blue pants covered that crotch. The pants' owner swayed his hips back and forth, arms bowed out, and hands shoved in his pockets.

Fuck me blind. Why was I staring at this crotch?

Mind you, it was wrapped in fine Italian wool-I mean, the guy had excellent sartorial taste, but it was still a crotch. I scooted my chair away from my desk, pushing the wheels back.

"Do you mind?" I huffed, leaning back and folding my arms.

My gaze traveled from the crotch up to a slim torso, clothed in a crisp, white shirt and a dark jacket, then upward to broad shoulders and tanned neck above the thick, light-blue silk tie.

Now we're talking! Nice body.

The man's deep chuckle resonated, drawing attention to his face...wow! I blinked twice at what I saw. This was no ordinary fellow.

Accentuated by golden highlights, his light-brown hair featured curls decorating the nape of his neck. He must have been blond when he was a boy, and the world probably believed he was an angel of God.

His skin was smooth and tanned, no doubt from a recent sunny vacation in Florida, Spain, or some exotic island. I craved touching his skin and exploring every muscle of his body.

When our eyes locked, I knew he was no angel. His viridescent eyes gleamed with lust, and his lips curved upward into a wickedly seductive grin.

"So, you're the recruit," he commented, swinging his right foot back and forth. His hands were still in his pockets.

"And you must be Santa Claus," I retorted, hoping that the man would bite. I loved a challenging fight, especially with good-looking strangers who invaded my space.

"So, has Christmas arrived? Have I been a good girl? Do I get my bonus?" I teased with a naughty smile.

"Oh, you'll get your bonus, Mona Lisa." The sexy stranger's mouth twitched to reveal a lopsided grin.