Chapter 1

“Nah, I think I will pass on lunch today, Adam is taking me for dinner tonight and I need to save myself”.
Those were the words that tipped me over the edge. Her silky voice I had admired for so many months finally formed the perfect sentence to drive me out of my shell and towards her body. And I mentioned the silkiness of her voice but my god wait until you hear about her body. Stood at a willowy 5,9 she carried around 155lbs, yes thin to some, definitely thin to me, but I am a business man, and businessmen have the ability to see opportunity, and help it grow.

“Pass on lunch? Sounds ludicrous to me, I know the jacket potatos can be dry on a Thursday but get there quick enough and they can be pretty banging” Oh fuck, did I really just vocalise that?
Her eyes swerved round and her slight double chin followed. For the first time we stood face to face, like properly face to face, I drank her in; legs all bundled up in a pair of opaque tights, leading up to her tight, round arse, that was just about covered by her mini skirt. Her mini skirts are somewhat infamous in this part of the office, only she doesn’t know it. I lurk in IT and she rides the marketing floor.
“I only like jacket potatos with smoked cheese and they just have cheddar.” Yep. She is the one for me.
“Touché, the cheese in this place is probably classified as a ‘science based cheese product’.”
She giggled, cheeks squeezing into little balls, hand over her mathematically perfect teeth. Teeth that looked sugar deprived. She was replying to me but my eyes were fixated on her mouth, imagining myself dripping honey between her plump pink lips.
“…Well I supposed a bowl of soup or something will tide me over, Im...”
“Elle, yes I know who you are, don’t worry I’m not a creep, I just keep tabs on whos a PC person and whos a fuckwit, sorry I mean ‘Apple person’.” I stammered. “Im grabbing soup, I’ll get you a bowl.”
Before she had time to reply I was in the queue, nervously chewing my inner cheeks. Id planned thus fir so long.
With two soups in hand I took a step out of sight to violently butter her bread, as she waited patiently for me at the other end of the canteen.
“Fuck this is nice. I mean as nice as soup can be…And this bread! Ciabatta?”
“Sourdough.”
Her ignorance was adorable. Coupled with the smudge of tomato and basil on her chin and her ability to blather on about nonsense, I think this was the cutest thing I had ever seen. She shuffled in her seat as the soup filled her up. Soup. Haha. I mused in my head. If this is filling I cannot wait to get her alone and under my control.
In the weeks that followed we had lunch again, she wore a red shirt and blushed a similar colour after I mentioned it looked marvellous.
I noted she loved custard doughnuts, her grandma used to make them, so the next day I brought in custard doughnuts.
“Are you sure no one else on your floor wanted any??”
“No, no, go ahead.”
“Oh my god! What a coincidence, I was talking about these yesterday with Adam, well it was an argument really he-“
And there was that name again, the ‘boyfriend’. Adam, the one who loves her in heels. The one that thinks reading Game of Thrones before watching it counts as a personality trait. The one who packs her a box of blueberries with a post it note and expects a Nobel peace prize. Adam. Adam. Skip desert Adam.
“Come for a drink later.” I said, not asking.
“Adam and I are going-“
“No. Come.”
I locked eyes with her, a little longer than I had been the last few weeks. You know when a gaze lingers just a fraction more than it previously has, and the atoms in your body begin to vibrate. Her dusty blue iris’ shrank and her pupils enlarged,
And it wasn’t the only thing that had enlarged. Her once tight stomach had softened, it curled over the tight rim of her jeans. A good 15 obs of it.
Her pixie features softened too. A formerly angular jawline was now, well, angel-esque. She was like a cherub, biblical, still acceptable by normalities standards, but on the cusp of something a lot darker. Something I was so keen on gripping I had been waiting this long for it. The long game. The large game.
“Elle, in the nicest way possible, fuck that prick. Meet me at 7, Spoons, wear something tight.”
She looked taken aback by my authoritative demeanour. But her O shape mouth curved slightly, something in her was cheering. I took a chip from her plate and put it in her mouth as I walked away, menu already running through my mind.