Maybe We Shouldn't...| SCK AU story

3 • Hunk of Burning Love

Eda

      As much as it makes me blush to make this statement - my boss, Serkan Hottie Bolat, is hot as hell, and yummy times a thousand. He's like white chocolate and macadamia gelato that I can eat a gallon of, guilt-free. Ok, maybe not guilt-free. There, I said it, I got it off my chest.

     Speaking of chest, Mr. Boss Man has swoon-worthy pecs that cause me to lose my concentration too many times a day. His to-die-for six pack, or maybe eight pack, is the leading contributor to the collection of forbidden thoughts caged up in my mind. Here I go again...I cannot be having these tawdry thoughts about my boss. Fast-forward, or better yet, delete, delete, delete.

      One might judge me for ogling him like a hunk of juicy steak, but what's a girl supposed to do, when her boss looks like one of those sexy guys who graces the cover of New York Times bestseller romance novel? I mean one woman's gawking can be another woman's 'observation', or appreciation.

      Anyways, back to my saucy story. How do I know Mr. Boss Man has to-die-for pecs, along the lines of Gerry Butler in the movie 300? Company volleyball tournament, no shirt, board shorts, glistening taut pecs and Adonis-would-be-jealous six-pack abs, teasing me - a boss who is too handsome for his and my own good. I enjoy looking at his washboard abs as much as admiring his ridiculously handsome face. What can I say, I'm an equal-opportunity gawker.

      As much as I want to imprison him in the 'friend/boss zone' my female hormones' persistent retaliation has won that battle, hands down. Sometimes, I have no control over them - they escape their confinements and roam in the wild, blow in the breeze, wreaking havoc like nobody's business, and making my life a living hell. As it stands, my eight hour workday is equally divided between completing my tasks and fantasizing about my boss/friend.

      Serkan Bolat is your typical alpha male. The behavior he exhibits aligns with the top ten characteristics suggested by Google - intelligent, bold, assertive, a natural leader, loves calling the shots and goal-oriented, to name a few.

      Unfortunately for me, my boss has also been blessed with a handsome face, killer bod, and a sexy baritone voice that gives me goosebumps and melts igloos. These are desired physical attributes for a male model, but terrible ones for the guy who signs my paychecks.

      Opposites attract, they say. I'm impulsive and quirky, I hate exercising, love sweets and carbs, and I eat my dessert before meal. I'm sentimental and silly at times, and has a propensity to be frivolous and indecisive. I'm also loyal to the bone and tenacious, and the people I care about remain deeply burrowed in my too-tender heart. Is a sassy mouth with a big heart a good match for an alpha male who sticks to coloring inside the lines, and stores his heart in a clamshell?

      I have a life rule - do not piss where you sleep. Well, it's actually don't shit where you sleep, but I was trying to not be crass. I was raised the proper way, but I do like to cuss occasionally -- expletives give it the ooomph factor. Anyways, you don't screw where you work, you know, that kind of thing. In this case, do not fall for your boss. Apparently, my brain didn't get this memo. This rule seems simple enough, unless your boss is Serkan Hottie Bolat.

      The frontal lobe of my brain that controls logical thinking and reasoning, comprehends the danger of falling in lust with my boss. However, my limbic system decides to join forces with my female hormones, to turn my world topsy-turvy.

      Despite my initial resistance, my traitorous hormones choose to disregard the rules and keep egging me on to embark on this perilous adventure of falling for the man I work for.