Page 54 of Shape Of My Heart
Amy had just opened the file for January when Josh pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it over to the ground beside the Xerox copier. She turned to glare at him but the words escaped her as she beheld the site of his masterpiece torso adorned with stunning tribaltattoos.
He was a work of art and she swore he looked like the perfect specimen of what God intended when he made man. Josh was the blueprint and she noted that he looked dramatically different to when she saw him shirtless weeks ago. To her he looked like he’d accumulated more muscle and he looked more sculpted. He’d been eating super healthy and having these superfood shakes he called his magicpunch.
Put that together with his training and this was what you got. The extremely overconfident man standing tall and proud before her who took pride in his amazing looks and the way she was lookingathim.
“What are you doing?” Amy hissed trying to stop her blood from coursing through her veins at a hundred miles an hour. There was no doubt that her cheeks were now red and the uncontrollable; blushing had seized her onceagain.
“Stripping.” He said it like it was nothing, like he was gardening orsomething.
“What? Are youcrazy?”
“Yes.” He nodded and smiled. Then to her surprise he switched off the computer and, with one swift move, picked her up. She shrieked when he tossed her over his shoulder as if she was a ragdoll. It brought the image of a caveman up in her mind and she tried to stop herself from laughing. That would have thrown her annoyanceathim.
“Josh, you put me down this second,” she yelped, smacking his back, which was also covered in moretattoos.
He answered by switching off the office lights and closing the door as they wentthroughit.
“Josh, you’re my boss. I work for you. This is not good work behavior.” It was fruitless. Her attempts werefruitless.
He carried her into the sitting room and setherdown.
“Perry is going togomad.”
“Perry cangofu—”
“Language, Josh,” she hissed,giggling.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I always talk like this. It’s football language.” He winced. “Okay, this is what I’ll tell Perry if he complains. I’ll tell him gofillhimself with something because we’re busyafterfive.”
She’d met Perry last week. He seemed to be one of those men who were very particular and professional. She’d offered her usual smile and pleasantries but he barely acknowledged her and launched into a lengthy conversation about what he needed her to do. He barely took a break to breathe as hespoke.
“Then he’ll say, ‘busydoingwhat’.”
“We’re foolingaround.”
“You can’t say that to him,” she retorted. She knew he would do it. That was his character. Very open minded and liberal to the point where he just said whatever was on his mind. Didn’t matter what it was. Josh just spoke and did as he wanted. The last thing she needed was for people like Zelda to think that she wasn’t serious about her work and replace her. “And we aren’t foolingaround.”
“Yes we are.” He nodded with a wicked glint in his eye. Taking the edge of her camisole top, he edged hercloser.
“Josh.”
“Yes,baby.”
“We can’t foolaround.”
He spread his arms wide and held them out. “Baby, you’re seriously telling me you don’t want this?” He motioned to his perfect body, drawing her attention once again to his sculptured abs and the intense definition of each muscle against the glossy black ink of the tattoos swirled across hischest.
She tried to hold back asmile.
“Josh, I workforyou.”
“Baby, that didn’t stop youweeksago.”
“That was different.” It wasn’t and she didn’t know how to talk down a kiss she’d wanted more than anything at the time. “We were on thebeach.”
“And the time before that?” A mischievous smile lit up his face, showing off his gorgeousdimples.
She pulled in a sharp breath and felt the blood begin to pound in hertemples.
