In San Francisco, an important lawyer Madison (27 years old), contemplates ending it all one day, exhausted about everything. This was maybe a sign, as she suddenly meets an incredible man, or so she thought. Madison's fights against her feeling as...
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[JAVIER PEÑA'S POV]
I arrived home late, the events of the day still vivid in my mind. The company is doing great with this new movement, but it also implies big efforts, and lots of hours.
Tossing my keys onto the entrance counter, I kicked off my shoes and made my way to the kitchen. As I reached into my pocket, I pulled out Madison's thong, the memory of the morning bringing a smirk to my lips. I opened the fridge, only to find an apple, a six-pack of beer, and some chocolate. I had been too busy to do any shopping.
Grabbing a beer, I headed to the living room, setting the bottle on the table in front of the couch. I pulled out a cigar, lighting it up as I threw the box onto the table. The doorbell rang, startling me. I glanced at my watch-eleven at night.
Curious, I walked to the entrance and opened the door, surprised to see Madison standing there.
"I came to get my thong," she said, her voice steady but her eyes holding a challenge.
I smiled, stepping aside to let her in. "You'll have to come in. It's in the kitchen."
Madison walked past me, heading towards the kitchen as I returned to the living room, settling back onto the couch spreading my legs so that I could be more comfortable.
"If you're hungry, I can order some food," I called out. "The fridge is practically empty."
Madison reappeared in the doorway, walking directly toward me. She looked incredible in a short, box-pleated white skirt that showed off her legs, paired with a light blue shirt, the first two buttons undone. I took a moment to appreciate the sight.
She moved closer, her expression determined. "I don't want food," she said, sitting on me with one leg on either side. My free hand instinctively went to her ass, pulling her closer.
I took a puff of my cigar and vented the air to a side. "What happened to the hard, angry Madison who didn't want to play my games?," I teased, looking up at her.
She leaned in, her lips inches from mine. "She's still here," she whispered, "but she's getting bored of the strict lawyer's life."
Her lips met mine, and the tension between us snapped. The kiss was hungry, urgent, a clash of wills and desires. My hand moved up her back, pulling her shirt free, while her fingers tangled in my hair.
I left the cigar on the table and then stood, lifting her with me as she wrapped her legs around my waist. We made our way to the bedroom, clothes discarded in a frenzy along the way. Her shirt was the first to go, buttons flying as I tore it off her. She responded by unbuckling my belt, her hands moving with a practiced ease that made my blood boil.
