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Vicki left the office at three o'clock, ushering out her final visitor for the day, Eddie, one of the firm's graphic designers.
"I'll check those proofs by tomorrow, and let you know," Vicki said, shoving him out the door. She grabbed her laptop and bag, cramming the proofs in as safely and quickly as possible, then zoomed out the door to her house.
She could have opted for a public place, but that would draw suspicion the eve before a major corporate merger, since both she and Derek were fairly well known in the city. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she wanted to be on the safe side. And she didn't feel comfortable in Derek's place, knowing she'd find it harder to resist him if she was in his personal space.
As she drove home, a dozen miles over the speeding limit, she wondered how messy she'd left her living room. Would she have time to tidy up before his arrival, or even change out of her work clothes?
Then Vicki turned onto her street, and noticed something was amiss. A silver Porsche was parked in front, and Derek leaned against it. So not only was he horribly subtle, but he was also annoyingly an hour early. She pulled into her driveway and breathed deeply before stepping out of the car.
"You're early," she called out, grabbing her bags from the passenger side, then shut the door with her hip. Derek meandered closer to her as she beeped her car shut. He was freshly showered but still had a slight five o'clock shadow. He'd changed from his suit and tie to jeans and a black polo t-shirt, tight enough to reveal the muscles normally hidden by his more conservative clothes, but not too fitted to be accused that he was bragging about his physique.
"Figured we could get a head start," Derek responded with a casual shrug, hooking his fingers in the belt loops of his low-riders.
Vicki narrowed her eyes at him, but he looked back with an amused expression. She flashed back to the conference in Michigan. They'd ingested too many spirits, heatedly debated politics, then found themselves in an empty conference room in the middle of the night. He'd pinned her back up against the wall and pressed herself against her...
She shook aside the reverie and tried to quell the building ache between her thighs. "If we're going to be partners, I'm going to have to set some ground rules." She slid her key into the lock and let him into her private world.
"Like what?" he asked, setting down his laptop case.
"Like, give me a half hour after the office to unwind before invading my personal space."
Derek smiled. "Why don't you go unwind," he said, emphasizing the last word, "and let me get started here?" He gestured to her living room, which luckily wasn't as messy as she'd remembered. She wasn't sure she should unleash him in her house, but figured she had nothing he could use as blackmail.
"Fine, but then we go over those ground rules," she conceded. She left him to his devices and ran upstairs to shower and change herself, locking all the doors-- just in case Derek got any ideas. She wasn't certain how she'd react, but it was best to strike preemptively...
When she breezed back into her living room twenty minutes later, her hair falling damp and wavy down her shoulders, Vicki felt refreshed. She didn't need to satisfy her curiosity about Derek, after all. She was a grown-up. No longer did she need to succumb to her baser impulses to sate her pressing urges.
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