Page 8 of Get It In Writing
Chapter Five - Harper
My last girlfriend? My last girlfriend didn’t work out, and it wasn’t her fault. She said that I was married to my work, packed up her car, and left me on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in the summer. That was ten years ago.
I was on the brink of something great then. I was working on a design for a civic center in a nearby city as a junior architect, and I was on the short-list to win the bid. I guess it was too many late nights and not enough evenings in for her.
I never blamed her. I only blamed myself. And why shouldn’t I have blamed myself? I couldn’t give her what she wanted: a husband, a child, a family. A home.
I guess it’s only been recently that I’ve been able to stop beating myself up over it.
But none of that matters now. It’s so far in the past. All that matters now is getting to know Rebecca.
Getting to know her in many ways.
God, it’s been too long.
Not since I’ve had sex. No, I get laid all the time. I guess it’s the combination of being young and having money. The women in this city, they’re so attracted to wealth. It’s a funny thing. They like the drinks, they like the loud music, the attention. They like taking pictures with me and posting them on social media.
I’ve met a lot of good girls that way, too. But none of them are like Rebecca.
Rebecca, who talked back to me. Who stood up to me. Who I tested without even realizing it.
She’s got some lip, that’s for sure.
And she isn’t afraid to give it to me.
And that’s not even mentioning her peerless beauty. Her smooth skin, her pretty brown hair. I want to get lost in those dark waves. Hibernate there for the winter.
Is it too early for me to write her a love letter?
Or should I just stick to writing down all the filthy things I’m going to do to her?
I look out my office over to the reception desk. I could write her an email, but the way I can see her looking down at the note I wrote her makes me think she likes the real thing better. Something physical. Something to grab onto.
But first, I need her answer. It’s just a drink, so I don’t know why she’d want to say no. I already know she wants me, and it’s not just because of my money, which is really fucking refreshing.
It’s because she’s attracted tome. There are a few ways you can tell a woman is into you for real, and not just into the idea of you.
First of all, she’ll tell you what she really thinks. She won’t sugar-coat anything. So when she asked if I wasreallygoing to fuck her right here in my office on display for everyone to see, she really thought it was possible I might.
Which would be really fucking hot. To have everyone know she’s mine?
My dick is hard as steel, and I reach down to adjust myself while looking over at her.
Oh, that’s the other way to know a woman really likes you. She’ll look at you even when no one else is looking. Even when you’re not paying attention to her at that exact moment. She wants to see you even when you’re noton. She wants to see the real you. So when I look over to see Rebecca glancing my way, I know I’m in.
It might be early to give her a love letter, but not too early to write one. And it’s definitely not too early to get into detail about all the things I’m going to do to her.
How I’m going to make her mine. How I’m going to make her crave my cock. How I’ll make her come fast and hard the first time I touch her.
Because all that stuff doesn’t require love, does it?
So I start to write it down.
I asked you if you wanted me to take you at my desk or at yours. What I really want to know is what kind of girl you really are. Do you like the risk and the rush of being pushed up against the wall after hours when anyone could come in, or do you like the discretion and privacy of a closed door and a private, intimate moment.
I could give you one. Or the other.
Are you a good girl or a bad girl?
