Page 2 of Peaches

I just have to write!

Another sigh.

Another roll of the eyes.

Alright!

It’s now or never!

And it has to be now!

I suddenly start to feel the wheels in my head clicking.

A story in the shadows slowly emerging. It’s kinda cute. Maybe it could work. At least, I think it could.

Ah, what the hell! I never thought I’d write a story like this, but in the context ofstaying relevant,as they say, here goes nothing…

“I’m sorry, is this seat taken,” I hear a low, raspy, sexy as fucking hell voice say next to me.

I try to avoid the pull it has on every naughty part of my body and focus back on my computer. But if I’m being honest with myself, I’m silently begging to hear it again, just so I can feel one more time the way it ran its way around every curve of my body. Slowly. Like a drug you don’t want to give into, but can’t help and enjoy as you feel it hit your blood stream.

Shit! Focus, Grace!

My hands hover over the keys, ready to get started on a project I’ve been putting off for almost twelve damn months. Besides, he was talking to the table next to me, wasn’t he? There is no reason I should get my panties all in awettwist.

“I know, I’m sorry, you look very busy. But it’s just that…” the voice trails off, and I can’t help but be tempted to glance up and see who it’s coming from.

If the male behind it matches the way it pulls me under and makes me want to drown in it all night long, I might just let his voice make me forget about my deadline, my editor, publisher, personal assistant… but never the readers.

No, never them.

My eyes raise ever so slowly and catch the light green ones staring back at me.

Sorry readers! This is where my story ends!

Sweet lord, have mercy!

His brown hair is short on the sides but sexily disheveled on the top of his head as if he just got out of bed. Stubble frames his chiseled jaw and my mouth waters at his full lips as they break out in a smile. But heaven please put me out of my misery and take me home now because I’m too tongue tied to even speak. My eyes fall to his broad shoulders that fill out the tight-fitting white shirt that effortlessly, and oh sweet Jesus, ever so perfectly drapes over his torso. I can see the curves of his biceps and the definition of his abs under the sheer fabric. But that’s not what gets my heart racing.

No! Not that! There’s more! Sweet heaven above, there’s more!

“Oh hell,” I hear myself grunt as my eyes close and I try and forget the grey sweatpants that hang on his lower hips.

I bite my bottom lip and squeeze my eyes shut harder, attempting to block out what I must’ve just imagined I saw out of my mind. Every curve, every hard inch of him. I suck in a breath and bite down on my bottom lip.

Forget it, Grace!

Block it out of your mind like you’ve blocked out this story idea for the last damn year.

You can do it!

Well, at least until I get home later and can fully let myself indulge in the fantasy that’s standing right in front of me.

It’s all in my mind, right?

But as I hear the stranger shuffles his feet, as time pauses and I know I’m still physically sitting in the coffee shop like an idiot with my eyes clenched shut, I realize it’s not a dream, and shit, I’m also one blessed girl because the tempting distraction that just walked into my life just so happens to be absolutelyreal.

As in pinch me and then make everyone disappear so I can indulge in this fantasy. Fuck my editor, my publisher, and everyone else because every nerve in my body is telling me I want to fuck him.

---