I Don't Love You Too

The man didn't stop till he came chest to chest with me, his hands landing each side of me on the counter.

"You stink, Hurdley." I murmured, the man really smelling combination of sweat and alcohol. It wasn't as bad as it sounds though, some sick part of me found it manly and weirdly turn-on.

He chuckled softly and let his head droop on my level, our lips extremely close to each other. The bastard threw the technic running shirt over his head, exposing his inconceivable muscles underneath. I watched as the shirt landed to our feet while his fingers found the elastic band of his grey sweats. The playful and very self-aware smirk plastering on his lips made clear he knew that he was irrisistible in my eyes. In a second the sweats rested on the floor with the shirt, leaving him to stand in his black boxers. As his hands moved to remove the only piece of cloth that made the situation even slightly bearable I had to cover my dear eyes with my palm.

A hot breath met my ear as he spoke, "I better shower then." I nodded my head continously in desperation, making sure that the palm stayed to cover my poor eyes. His retreating steps made me stole a peek between my fingers.

Yep. He was butt naked, trotting around my apartment.

Showing off those enviable pair of cheeks.

Making me want to join him in the freaking shower.

Causing my cheeks to blush because of the thought.

I never blush.

Never.
**
In a city of 8.3 million citizens what are the odds that your new boss is one of those 48 men you have slept with? In Charlotta's case the whole hundred percent.