Her Perfect 10

by Brianna Cash

  I don’t know how to go back to what we were before.

  I miss SD’s words. I miss having those glimpses of who she really is and how her mind works. While Sadie’s good at hiding it, now that I have an idea what’s behind those guarded looks, it only makes me want inside her head that much more. I want her to confide in me. I want her to tell me the little mundane things that make up her life. I want her to share her entire world with me.

  I wouldn’t give up this weekend for anything. Sadie’s a dream. She’s bold, she’s sassy, she’s uninhibited, she’s patient with my reluctant desires that I’m just beginning to understand. I like her, Sadie, even as a completely different person than my SD.

  Sadie also brought out a side of me I never knew existed. And I like this new side of me. It feels like I’m getting reacquainted with a long-lost friend, one I felt a connection with long ago, but he moved away before I ever got to know him. It’s like I’m finding a piece of myself. It makes me feel better and more confident about who I am, imperfections and all.

  But as great as this weekend was, it was incomplete. I got to see brief moments of my SD in Sadie. And I got Sadie any way I physically wanted her in the little time we’ve been granted. But I want all of her, and that includes her words, her thoughts, her emotions…her heart.

  I want SD and Sadie at the same time. Not as two separate entities that want me in entirely different ways. And going back to our separate lives is something I don’t know how to do after the many discoveries I’ve made about her and myself over the past thirty-six hours.

  “Today is Sunday,” I repeat, just as depressed about it as she is.

  When I get out of the shower, she’s still lying in bed, looking out the glass door to the balcony, the sheets twisted around her legs, her torso bare. I can’t imagine pretending nothing happened between us. I can’t imagine not seeing her again outside of work. I can’t imagine not trying for more with her.

  “Can we do something one night this week? Whatever night you’re free?”

  She watches me towel dry my hair, her eyes holding a mystery I’d like to unfold. She says nothing for a long time. I wait her out. She feels the same way, even if she doesn’t know I’m her writing partner. She told me she did when we were in that little shack. There’s no way we can go back to normal.

  She sighs, before looking away. “It’s not a good idea.”

  Maybe she’s not as willing to try for more as I am.

  “Why not?”

  My mind immediately flashes back to our conversation before any of this happened. The one where we set up the guidelines for our island relationship. She already has someone she relies on for sex. I knew that going into this. She never said she wasn’t going back to him.

  My insides squeeze painfully.

  “Things will get messy. I don’t like messy. Not when it comes to work.”

  “We’ll keep it simple.” I wrap the towel around my waist, then tug on the sheet as I walk to my suitcase, exposing even more of her gorgeous, addicting skin. “At work, we’re completely professional. Outside of work, we’re whatever we want to be.”

  She rolls out of bed and turns on the shower. The mostly useless door stays open, and my eyes cruise her curves, even as she avoids looking at me. “I gotta be honest. There’s kind of someone else.”

  “I know.” I lean on the edge of the sink to watch her rub shampoo into her hair. She spins around, showing me her wide eyes as I try to remain relaxed and act like it doesn’t kill me to acknowledge the other guy she likes to have sex with. “Jamison, right?”

  “Oh.” Her eyes fall back into their normal position. “No, not him. He won’t be thrilled to hear it, but I’m done with him.”

  She doesn’t notice my semi-relieved sigh, or that my body is still coiled tight with jealousy. “There’s someone other than Jamison? Someone regular?”

  The area around her eyes tightens at the hard edge of my voice and I do my best to rein in my emotions. She promised me nothing. I have no right to interrogate or judge her.

  “It’s…” She sighs, looking for the right words. “It’s not physical with this other guy. At least, not yet.”

  Oh. She means the guy she’s emailing and texting through school, and that’s me! How can I be upset about her giving up our physical relationship to give our emotional relationship a chance? She doesn’t know it’s me, not yet, so that’s the best possible answer she could have given me.

  Still doesn’t mean I want to give up our physical relationship, though.

  Should I ask about this supposed other guy? Will she think I’m trying to pressure her into choosing me? Or getting more info about him because I’m jealous? Or worse yet, will she think I’m judging her again and trying to imply she’s easy?

  I opt to keep my mouth shut. As far as she knows, I’m simply honoring my agreement that what we have here stays here, since she’s apparently not very open to seeing me again after this weekend.

  “I’m going to want you every time I see you.” My tone holds no shame. No regret. Only honest desire and longing.

  “I know.” She fingers through her conditioned hair, watching me watch her. My eyes aren’t cruising her body anymore, they’re locked on hers, which are their own equally enjoyable show. “I’m going to think about how you feel inside me. How easily you get me off. How you tease me with your kisses. How gorgeous your cock is…”

  My dick twitches in response, wanting to show his appreciation, and I move closer to lean against the doorframe of the shower, trying to resist her until she’s done. “You think my cock is gorgeous?”

  “Easily the most beautiful I’ve seen.” She smiles, reaching to pull the towel off my waist, her eyes landing on the aforementioned appendage. “I’m going to miss it.”

  “Maybe you should keep me around, in case this other guy doesn’t work out. We could go on a few dates. Spend some time together. With clothes on, as well as off.”

  The corners of her lips turn down.

  I get that I’m not someone she expected to like, but can’t she give me a chance after the last couple days we spent together?

  “You’ll already be around, Owen. We see each other with clothes on every day at work.” Her wet hands run along the length of my shaft, and it instantly hardens to point proudly at her. As if saying, “She’s the one I want!” After stroking me until I’m groaning and eagerly pulling her wet form closer, she gives me a dirty smile and a promise. “If this other guy doesn’t work out, I promise I’ll spend some time with you… Preferably without the clothes, though.”

  Chapter 19

  Sadie

  Monday morning is, as predicted, a total disaster. Sarah, the Blond Bimbo, had no idea what she was doing during the three days I was off. There are over a hundred messages on the desk voicemail. There are more notes with scribbled messages than I’ll be able to go through in one full day. There are deliveries lined up behind the desk that should’ve been sent directly to the companies that ordered them. There’s also a line of people trying to lodge complaints as soon as they see I’m back, and my shift starts before the building opens.

  George comes out to help after he arrives, although he isn’t any help at all. He’s slowing me down because now I have to explain why I’m doing something, instead of just doing it and getting it done. After an hour of his questions, I finally man-up, look him in the eyes, and pray I don’t get another write up when I tell him what I need to not go insane.

  “I’ll get this all sorted out faster if you let me work and stop asking questions.”

  “Sadie, look—”

  “No. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude, or insubordinate, I just really want to get things under control before Sarah gets here, and there’s a ton of things that need my undivided attention for that to happen. Just let me work. You can help by staying out of my way, answering the phone, and helping anyone that comes in needing directions until Sarah gets here.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you
. Sarah quit.”

  “Thank God!” I breathe a sigh of relief, practically giddy over not having to deal with her ever again.

  His forehead crinkles. “You’re not upset?”

  “No! She was a useless receptionist! You should really understand that now.” I point vaguely at the mess all around us.

  “But with her gone, you’ll be working by yourself every day from open to close, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to honor your time off requests.”

  Fuck. Of course, there’s a catch. I don’t care about being here by myself—overtime every day will be awesome for my paycheck—but the time-off thing is a killer. “Next weekend, I’m a bridesmaid in my best friend’s wedding. You need to find coverage for at least that Friday. That’s the only day I absolutely need off until after Thanksgiving.”

  He nods, looking at the mess, then back at me. “I can work with that. The position is posted, and we already have a few applicants. If you get everything under control today, I’ll let you look at the resumes.”

  I mentally make a list of everything that needs to be done. If the phones stay quiet, it should be doable. “Send me the ones you’re seriously considering in an email. I’ll check them out over my lunch.”

  “You’re not supposed to be working on your lunch.”

  “That’s not working... That’s trying to save my sanity.”

  A text comes in a little later. I still have a ton of shit I need to do, but I keep stealing glances at the blinking light on my phone until I can’t resist checking it. I have to see if it’s 736. I have to see what his weekend consisted of. I have to see if telling Owen I couldn’t see him outside of work was worth it.

  Seeing him around the building is going to be brutal, if the look he gave me on his way in was any indication. It’s not fair. Just that one look and my thighs were clenching in anticipation of something that may never happen again.

  OC736: I thought of you.

  That’s enough to make my heart pound like a stampede of elephants racing across the Serengeti. He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to. He had sex with his girl.

  Sadie: After, right? Not during?

  It takes an agonizing amount of time for him to answer. I get a lot done in the meantime, but I can’t keep my eyes off my phone. I’m a kid waiting for cookies to get done in the oven. Watching isn’t going to make that timer buzz any faster, but my nose is pressed against the glass of the oven anyway, wanting it to sound long before it’s ready.

  When that little light finally blinks, I grab my phone, not giving a damn if I burn my hands on the hot baking tray.

  OC736: Did you think of me?

  Sadie: You didn’t answer my question.

  Putting the phone down, I shoot off a few more emails to the receptionists on different floors, letting them know their deliveries came, but are down in the lobby. Hopefully, I can get some more boxes cleared out before lunch.

  OC736: You already know, and you didn’t answer mine.

  I text him the truth. Because that’s what I’ve started doing with him, and I don’t want to stop. Not now. Not when things are getting kind of serious between us. Lies in the beginning were ok, when we didn’t know each other and weren’t considering meeting up and possibly dating. Or something along those lines.

  Sadie: I thought of you on and off all weekend.

  OC736: Was he better than my chocolate cake?

  Do I admit Owen was the best I’ve ever had? That I want to see Owen again, outside of work, and it’s making me question what I’m doing with 736? That it was more than sex, and even though I don’t know Owen well, I’d really like the chance to change that?

  The little light on my phone starts blinking again before I’ve decided on an answer.

  OC736: Tell me your truth and I’ll tell you mine.

  Sadie: I don’t know if I want your truth.

  OC736: I’m afraid of your answer, too.

  Sadie: Should we not tell each other?

  OC736: That’s up to you. Can you live with your secret?

  I put my phone away. Can I live with the secret of Owen? Can I work here, seeing him every day, and not let it slip that I’ve begged him to fuck me? Literally begged, on my knees, with my voice rough and impatient, willing to do anything he asked as long as he put that glorious cock inside me and fucked me with everything he had? Can I keep that from 736 if I meet him, and we click, and we form some kind of relationship? Will he be mad if he finds out it was with someone I sort of work with, someone I see every day? Will he be able to trust me? Will I be able to trust myself?

  I already don’t trust myself.

  Sadie: Truth. It was amazing! He works in the same building I do, and I’m torn thinking about him possibly coming down here to ask me some work-related question, or to pick up his lunch, or to look me in the eyes and let them burn right down to my soul, because I told him I couldn’t see him again, but I want to more than just about anything.

  OC736: Why’d you tell him you couldn’t see him again?

  Sadie: Because of you.

  OC736: My chocolate cake better be pretty damn good then, huh?

  Laughing out loud, I direct a few people that come in the building looking for different offices. I answer the phone and transfer calls. I lodge several more complaints against an employee who no longer works here. And then I finally get a spare minute to look at my phone again.

  OC736: Like you said, we’re a possibility right now, not a thing. If it’s just sex, I won’t judge you if you keep seeing him.

  Sadie: I’d love to tell you it was just sex, but I’d be lying. I LIKE him, and I haven’t even rated him in any categories except the fifth.

  Time flies. It’s almost lunch when I get a very troubling reply from 736 that makes me question where I thought this was going.

  OC736: I’m proud of you. You must’ve been feeling with your heart instead of thinking so much with your head.

  Sadie: Why’re you not upset? If you tell me you’re interested in the girl you fucked this weekend for more than sex, I’ll be devastated!

  OC736: It would leave you free to see where things would go with your better-than-cake guy…

  George comes out, and I shove my phone in my pocket. He’s impressed with the progress I’ve already made, nodding as he looks around, then telling me to take my break. I walk outside, enjoying the last few days of relative warmth with my jacket pulled tight around my shoulders. I brought a sandwich from home. Saving up money for that sofa, and all.

  Actually, I’m getting a new roommate next week, for the first of the month. She has a couch and a TV, so I’m off the hook. I still need to add some padding to my dwindled savings account, though, so it’ll be boring old sandwiches for me over the next few months.

  After getting situated on a bench in the sun, missing the beach and the pool and that room I shared with Owen, I check my phone, nervous as to how to respond to 736’s last text. But there’s another one from him that makes me sigh with relief.

  Kind of…

  OC736: No matter what happened over the weekend, you’re the girl I’m interested in more than anyone else.

  Sadie: How’re you not mad?

  OC736: Maybe because you’re being so honest with me. Maybe because I expected your answer. Maybe because you’re still talking to me and that means I still have a chance. Maybe because I like you that much...

  I like him, too. I’ve told him more about myself than I usually tell anyone. Maybe it’s because communication is the only thing we have. We can’t rely on body language, we can’t judge each other on our bodies, or what brands we wear or how we style our hair. It’s how we talk to each other, plain and simple, nothing else to get in the way of our feelings or thoughts.

  Sadie: I want to meet you.

  OC736: You will. Promise.

  Sadie: I’m afraid to meet you before this class is over. I want to, but I also don’t want to fuck with how easy it is to write to you. We have this connection, and meeting could make i
t better, but it could also make it worse.

  OC736: Then we’ll wait until the class is over.

  Sadie: Can we speed up time?

  OC736: LOL. I haven’t figured out how to travel through time yet, but if I had, I would probably slow it down much more often than speeding it up.

  That’s probably everyone’s answer.

  My lunch is almost over. I type out a goodbye text, hoping to talk to him again soon and really looking forward to whatever that conversation will bring. Because talking to him is still the highlight of my day.

  Well…other than fantasizing about Owen.

  Can I lie to myself and say they’re tied?

  Sadie: Thanks for not making me feel like shit.

  OC736: Thanks for being honest.

  I slip my phone into my pocket and start walking back. This break was needed, but I want to get a lot more done, so my desk isn’t still a disaster tomorrow morning.

  Wait! He didn’t pay up for his side of our agreement.

  I start texting furiously so I’m not too late clocking back in.

  Sadie: You didn’t tell me about your girl!

  OC736: She was better than my chocolate cake.

  Owen

  Sadie was busy when I got to the office Monday. Not just busy; swamped. Sarah quit Wednesday afternoon, her first day running the desk by herself. I could have told Sadie over the weekend and given her some warning, but it was literally the last thing on my mind until I walked into work Monday morning. It’s Tuesday now. I’m looking at her as I make my way toward the elevator, images of her mouth, tongue, hands, and every other part of her body flashing in front of my eyes as I simply nod at her in acknowledgement.

  She was the only thing on my mind all day yesterday.

  I expect today will be more the same.

  Here, I’m supposed to act like I never touched her. Like I don’t know how to make her gasp in pleasure. Or how to make her beg me with her body and that sweet mouth. Or how she looks with my dick halfway down her throat. Or how wet she is when she looks at me with that expression on her face, the one she’s wearing right now, as her eyes linger on mine while I wait for the elevator.