Sorry if I frightened you," I say, realizing she looks alarmed. "I shouldn't have stood here staring. I just…everything smells so good."
Her face lights up behind the mountain of mixing bowls. "These muffins are for tomorrow morning," she says. "I'm just about to slide in the last batch."
Since I saw her last, she's tamed her curls back into a tight braid and tied the pink scarf around her head. Despite having made a lunch my associates won't stop talking about and what looks to be several hundred muffins, she still looks pristine in her white coat. And too fucking modest. Her pink tongue slips out as she hoists a pan into the oven, and I long to taste it, to lose my fingers in that nest of blond curls. Shaking my head, I realize that coat might not be modest enough. I have to pull myself together and remember that this woman is now my employee. She distracts me, and I don't like that.
I might need to go out and find someone looking for a quick release. How long has it been since I've been with a woman? I try to run the calculations, but Alice walks around the table with a muffin. "Here," she says, her face eager. "Taste!"
I raise an eyebrow, but accept the muffin from her and venture a bite. What hits my mouth is the most delicious flavor combination I think I've ever experienced. The muffin is moist and citrusy, but somehow light and hearty all at once. And there's an aftertaste I can't put my finger on. Alice must see me struggling to identify the flavor, because she begins talking in that carefree, delighted voice.
"They're lemon lavender," she tells me, "but I added flax for protein and used sour cream for texture. I also did a banana muffin with whole wheat and…oh. Am I rambling? I tend to get excited. I've been tweaking these recipes for awhile now. I am going to do some smoothies for the morning, too!"
A timer begins to beep and she bends to pull another tray of muffins from the oven. I stare, open-mouthed, at her perfect ass. It's round and tight, and I’m pretty sure each cheek would fill one of my hands. I swallow the rest of the muffin, trying not to think about slapping her backside as I pound into her from behind, right here in the break room. "Alice, they're delicious," I manage to say.
She moves quickly and expertly, wrapping the food in plastic and making piles to wash up at the sink. "I'm already glad we brought you on board. Donna got you everything you need, I presume?"
She laughs then, a hearty sound that explodes out of her. "Presume," she says in a mock-low voice, then claps her hand over her mouth. I feel the side of my face pull up in a grin. She's making fun of me. How long has it been since anyone other than my brothers has made fun of me? "Fuck," she says. "I'm so sorry. Shit, now I said fuck at work."
"Welcome aboard," I say, laughing quietly. "I always appreciate it when someone calls me out on my bullshit." She still looks horrified, so I try to reassure her I'm not upset. "I've spent my whole career in litigation or talking with judges. I guess I do sound a little pompous sometimes. It's hard to turn that off."
Alice is easy to talk to, and I make note of that. She's someone who might cause me to let my guard down, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that I can never, ever stop being vigilant. "Well anyway," she says, "Donna's been great and I have a contractor coming tomorrow to give an estimate on the renovation. I hope you don't mind that I called my father's company for that. He's very well known for commercial construction throughout Pittsburgh."
"I don't see why that would be a problem," I say. "You've already impressed me with what you accomplished in one day, and I presume he taught you your work ethic. I trust your judgment." My personal cell begins to ring and a glance tells me it's my brother calling. "Excuse me," I say to Alice. "I have to take this. Thank you for your efforts today." I hurry into the hall to take the call as I walk back to my office. "Ty. What's up?"
"What, did I interrupt you with a woman, asshole? You sound so flustered."
"Nice to hear from you, too, little brother."
He busts my balls for awhile before he reminds me that tonight is his welcome home dinner. My kid brother is a professional hockey player. He's been playing in Vancouver for the past few years, and then got sent to marinate in the minors. He was traded to the Pittsburgh Fury this year. Of course he hired my firm to handle his contract. It took some finesse to get him called back up from the minor leagues in time for playoffs, because my brother has a bit of a temper on the ice. We're all thrilled to have him back home where he belongs.
I'm the oldest of 3 brothers, and we're all about 18 months apart, so we've always been tight. When our mom died, we had to stick together. Our father never recovered from the shock of losing her, so it's really been the 3 of us Stag brothers. Having Ty so far away for 3 years has made everything feel off-kilter.
"Listen, dick wad, Gran says I'm supposed to tell you to be on time. I'm a client AND family, so that makes me double important now. She's got drinks starting at 6:30."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it." I look at my watch. "I've got to finish up some paperwork and I'll head over. You still staying with her until you find a place?"
"Fuck yeah I'm staying with Gran. She treats me like a god. Plus then I'm not tempted to bring home any puck bunnies." Ty proceeds to describe his most recent evening with some fan he met in a club, and I have to tune him out before his play-by-play leads me toward inappropriate thoughts about Alice.
I hang up with my brother and open my laptop. I love it here at the office when nobody else is around. No distractions. Just me and my files. I start reading through the case briefing for one of our athletes who is entering contract negotiations, but even with nobody here to call me with questions, I still can't concentrate. My mind keeps slipping back to Alice Peterson and her violet eyes. And her perfect ass in those awful pants.
After 20 minutes or so, I realize it's a lost cause trying to get anything done today. The thought of Alice stirring that muffin batter keeps taking over my thoughts. I decide that maybe if I rub one out, it'll clear my head, and so I lock my office door and sit on my leather couch.
I close my eyes and it takes less than a second before I'm rock hard, imagining her full lips and that sweet tongue latching on to my cock as if it's one of her delicious confections. I begin to stroke my rod, picturing her firm grip on my base as those blond curls bob up and down. Faster than I would have thought, I feel my balls tighten and I cum, spraying forcefully onto my chest. A groan escapes my lips and I feel myself spurt again and again until I'm breathless.
"Fuck," I mutter, seeing that I've spoiled my tie. I didn't even have time to grab the tissues. I'm like a teenage boy ripping open my pants to beat off at work. What the hell has happened to my self control? I rip the tie from my neck and open my bottom drawer where I keep my backup wardrobe. I never risk having to appear before a judge, or even a client for that matter, looking less than my best.
Using the mirror in the corner of my office, I slip on the clean tie and straighten my hair. I text my car service and exhale, walking toward the elevator. As I pass the break room, I see Alice has set everything up for breakfast tomorrow, and I smile. She’s good at what she does. The entire car ride to my grandmother's house, I'm distracted by thoughts of my new corporate chef, her curls, and her curves.
I decide to ask my brother Thatcher to introduce me to someone. I'm too wound up lately. He knows tons of artsy women. I'm sure he can find me someone discrete, looking for what I am seeking, too: dinner and a fast fuck, back to the office by 6am. Yes, I nod. That's exactly what I need.