Page 5 of Written By a Woman

I smiled and shrugged, agreeing with her.

This is the part of my life that doesn’t quite make sense to me, which led me to believe that Mary and Jamie definitely wouldn’t make sense of it either.

I went on dates, I had consensual casual sex, but I wasn’t exactly going anywhere with any of it. Unfortunately, the last few men I had either gone out with or hooked up with had left me feeling…underwhelmed. I didn’t exactly have a lot of reason to keep dating at this point. And yet, I did. I couldn’t help it. I loved the excited feeling of getting ready, knowing that the chances of sex were high.

Sure, I only get off with my dates about fifty percent of the time, and if I knew they were just in it for a hookup or a one-time thing, I could almost guarantee that they weren’t going to be able to get me off. And yet, I couldn’t resist the possible creative inspiration I got by putting myself out there.

Ilovedromance. Anything from cutesy closed-door romantic comedies to the most toe-curling monster erotica anyone can think of. If it has a happily ever after, I’m in.

Mary and Jamie knew I liked to read, but neither of them knew that I wrote, or how far I’d gone with it.

Because I was both ashamed and excited about it.

“I’m not going to argue with you, because you’re right,” I replied to Mary, “But I think that a small part of me just likes to get off on the fact that all I really have to do is swipe right a couple of times, and then there is a ninety-nine percent chance that I am going to get laid that night.”

“Ahem,” a throat cleared behind me, and I straightened from leaning against the countertop at the same time that Jamie and Mary stood taller. Their eyes widened in surprise. I squeezed mine closed and took a few milliseconds to hate myself before I turned around to see who had just walked in on our very inappropriate conversation.

Zaid Ansara.

Our boss.

Well, kind of.

Not directly.

He was just high enough in rank that he could fire us if he wanted to.

“Let’s try to remember that we’re at work,” his low baritone voice rumbled throughout the breakroom, and I had two conflicting reactions to his words. The message he delivered made it feel like a cold bucket of ice immediately got dumped over the fun times my friends and I were having together.

However, because of how delicious his voice sounded, paired with his entire physique, I felt my skin start to heat in his presence.

Because Zaid Ansara washot.

I know, I know. It was wildly inappropriate to say that about the Chief Technology Officer at Sun Steer, but it was true, nonetheless.

Zaid was taller than me, a feat that not a lot of men could pull off. I wasn’t bitter about being a tall woman and generally didn’t have any problems dating shorter men (as long as their egos weren’t incredibly fragile about it), but I would be lying if I said that seeing a man who was taller than me wasn’t an immediate plus one in the hypothetical, “This makes you hot” column.

Zaid’s tall. Maybe closer to six-three if I had to guess, but I digress.

His dark eyes were surrounded by thick, black eyelashes that he usually kept hidden behind glasses, but I still couldn’t help myself and made direct eye contact with him almost every time we came face to face.

He was always the first to break eye contact with me. Every time. Without fail.

He held an empty mug in his large hand. Two thick veins curved up his exposed forearm before hiding under the rolled sleeve of his button-down shirt.

Huh, he must have had an important meeting today to justify a button-down. Usually, he opted for a black T-shirt or polo. I was convinced that he had hundreds of black T-shirts that he cycled through. It was very Roy Kent fromTed Lassochic.

Breaking eye contact with me almost immediately, as usual, he turned and nodded to Jamie and Mary behind me.

“Will do, sorry about that,” Jamie immediately apologized.

“Yeah, sorry,” I repeated. Zaid didn’t look at me as he walked past and set his mug down in the sink, rinsing it out and drying off the two mugs that Jamie and I had left in there. We both shared a panicked look as we watched the CTO dry the mugs that we left.

Well, Jamie watched him dry off the mugs.

I found myself staring at Zaid’s incredible ass.

Becauseof coursehis tanned skin and black hair and unnecessary height weren’t enough. He had to be physically fit, too. I swore his pecs always strained against his shirts. His butt probably never got sweaty in the summertime because the globes of muscle were raised and firm, something I was both turned on by and weirdly envious of.

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