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“Veronica, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Hello to you, too, Troy,” she said, pushing off the door and stalking toward me like I was her prey. Gazelle turned lion.
I rolled my eyes.
She pushed papers aside on my desk, making room for her to sit on the edge of it. She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands, arching her back so her breasts peeked out a little further against the light blue cashmere.
“By all means, make yourself at home,” I said sarcastically, trying to re-organize the papers she had haphazardly pushed aside.
“Why, thank you,” she said.
“Again, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“I just wanted to see you.”
“I saw you last night.”
“And I had such a wonderful time with you then.”
She swung her legs over my desk so her thigh-high boots and long legs were now grazing against me as I sat in my office chair.
“Didn’t you?” she asked.
“I enjoyed seeing my aunt and celebrating her, yes.”
“Was there anything else you enjoyed seeing?” she asked coyly as she leaned down closer. I could feel her minty breath against my face.
I knew what she was referring to, and the image of her standing topless in my sister’s childhood bedroom flashed through my head quickly before I stomped it out. Supermodel or not, she was still a bitch and her perky breasts wouldn’t take away from that. I had shut the door on this years ago. Mostly.
“Veronica,” I said tiredly. “I thought you got the hint last night.”
She pouted at me with her glossy, baby pink lips.
“When did you become such a party pooper?” she asked.
I sighed, knowing this was my own fault. Even after our divorce we still had our fun together. If we ran into each other at events, she would end up at my place or me at hers. It didn’t mean anything other than just needing to fuck and release. I thought it was the same for her.
It had been months since anything had happened between us anyhow. Last night was the first time I had seen her in a while. I wondered why now she had decided to be so persistent in entering my life again.
“I’m just stressed with work,” I replied, running a hand through my hair.
“Well, I can help with that,” she said, as if jumping at an opportunity.
She parted her legs, placing one on either side of me on the glossy surface of my desk. My eyes darted down to the darkness between her open thighs.
“Jesus Christ, Veronica,” I groaned loudly when I realized she had nothing underneath her dress.
She laughed out loud, thoroughly enjoying herself. She lowered herself onto my lap, straddling me. Then she placed her hands against my chair, on either side of my head. I felt myself twitch slightly against her bareness. I was a man, after all.
“You need to go,” I said firmly, looking toward the door.
She leaned in and grazed her teeth against my earlobe. “Do I?” she whispered.
The words sent a shiver down my spine.
I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’t even entertaining this. I gripped her hips and lifted her off me suddenly. She let out a little gasp as she tried to find her footing. I stood up from my desk chair.
I crossed my arms and nodded toward the door. “Go.”