Author: Rachel Blaufeld
Asher was nothing less than mouthwatering as he prowled toward me across the mostly empty floor of the club. I’d changed out of my evening’s attire and was wearing worn-in skinny jeans with a hole in the knee and a nondescript black halter covered with a gray wraparound sweater, so I felt underdressed compared to the man coming my way.
My boss was still wearing the precisely creased slacks he’d worn for work, his dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, revealing a light smattering of blond chest hair and the very edge of his tattoo, a navy blue bolt of electricity inked over his chest for his one and only baby, the Electric Tunnel. But it was a sight to see, and I did enjoy licking it from top to bottom.
In the privacy of his office, that is.
His hair and goatee were equally mussed from his running his hands through them. Sadly, it was a behavior I knew all too well, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than dive in and make it even messier.
As usual, he was wearing motorcycle boots with his suit pants. He was a hot mess of a man––there was no one else remotely like him. Despite the layer of expensive designer clothing, he was pure bad boy underneath. He’d never ditch his boots, they were as ingrained in him as his past, which was why I should have been hightailing it right out of the place. Instead, I stood planted like a palm tree blowing in the wind, waiting for the storm to arrive, stuck in the ground as if there were nothing I could do to stop the blustery weather heading my way, threatening to topple me over.
The guy was a god, and I was nothing more than a stripper who was smitten with him.
As I ran my hands through my own long hair, my fingers sifted through the big waves running through it. I’d set it in hot rollers on my break for a bachelor party I ran earlier, yet now it didn’t seem like enough for Asher. He should get more than the leftovers of my evening at work. He deserved fresh curls and nice clothing, and perfume not mixed with another man’s cologne.
I wanted to be more in his eyes. Hadn’t I always?
Rachel Blaufeld is a social worker/entrepreneur/blogger turned author. Fearless about sharing her opinion, Rachel captured the ear of stay-at-home and working moms on her blog, BacknGrooveMom, chronicling her adventures in parenting tweens and inventing a product, often at the same time. She has also blogged for The Huffington Post, Modern Mom, and StartupNation.
Turning her focus on her sometimes wild-and-crazy creative side, it only took Rachel two decades to do exactly what she wanted to do—write a fiction novel. Now she spends way too many hours in local coffee shops plotting her ideas. Her tales may all come with a side of angst and naughtiness, but end lusciously.
Rachel lives around the corner from her childhood home in Pennsylvania with her family and two dogs. Her obsessions include running, coffee, icing-filled doughnuts, antiheroes, and mighty fine epilogues.