MARINA ONE-SHOTS

CHAPTER 4: WORKPLACE AU (PART II)

I am all about determination. Will. Control. I like to keep discipline; I like strictness. It helps me not to interfere my personal life with my work life. I don't believe in fate. Destiny can so as well kiss my ass. When I want something badly enough, I can have it. If I focus, sacrifice, and be on the right path, there's nothing that can come close to stopping me.

What is the point of this boasting session? Why do I sound like a self-nurturing speaker? What do I want to mean by all of this?

Well, in a nutshell: I control my sex drive. My sex drive does not control me. and that's what I've been trying to tell myself for the past two hours.

But all I have been doing is making myself look like a maniac, holding my head down, muttering the same thing over and over again.

I keep thinking about my beliefs which are coming into question, which I am thinking about throwing out of the fucking window, every time I think of the woman across the hall from me. All because of that one woman.

I sigh and run a hand through my hair and sit back against the chair. Damn it.

Carina DeLuca. I can't get her out of my mind. The work of her hands, the fluttering of her eyes, and her voice. Her voice, damn it.

The way I see it, I could still be with her. I didn't meet her at work. I met her at the bar. We didn't know what we were going to expect, well at least, I didn't, which also meant that she could forgo the title of "co-worker" and retain the label of "random hook-up" for which she was originally designated.

What? I'm a businesswoman, I'm supposed to find loopholes.

So, in theory, at least, I can definitely bend her over and get my way with her and let it be. Or I can be a victim to the longing glances, the quick accidental meetings in the elevators, or just the fact that she works right across the hall from me. All of this could seemingly elevate to stalkerish behavior and I sure don't want to be accused of anything.

And there's also the fact that some women can handle a one-night stand, and some cannot. For me, it's more like a fifty-fifty case. When I have a one-night stand, I make sure, I don't see them again. I don't give them my number and sure as hell don't take theirs. I make it such that I forget about the person I had fucked yesterday.

But this right here was absolutely bending my rules. Carina DeLuca was supposed to be just a woman I picked up at a bar who gave me the most amazing sex ever. But it was supposed to be ending over there. There wasn't supposed to be a story. She, sure as hell, wasn't supposed to be the IT head.

This isn't pretty.

But you see, no matter how badly I want it, I can't have it. This is my workplace. This is the place that I earned with my ability and power. And I wasn't going to throw away my rules. This place was my sanctuary—my second home.

It's not going to happen. Period.

Carina DeLuca was off-limits. Forbidden. Untouchable. Never happening. She's off my list.

She was one fruit I would never be having in my entire life. Allergic to it.

And I believe it.

Right until she shows up at my door.

Jesus.

She is wearing glasses. The black-rimmed kind. Sexy female Clark Kent. Glasses like this mostly look too geeky and uncomfortable on most women but not her. They rested on her nose, perfectly framing her long-lashed eyes, with her hair swept up in a loose messy bun. She was nothing less than full-out sexy.

I tell myself no in my head, uttering them every second it takes for her to close the door behind her and look at me again.

And then she smiles.