* Clover *
“Thank you, Clover. Any plans for the weekend?”
She clutched the coffee mugs to her chest in Mason’s office as he rose and put on his jacket. Did he call her Clover? It was always Miss McBride, wasn’t it? Plus, he had never once asked about her life.
She shyly shook her head, before remembering the festival. “Have you been to the annual Taco Fest? I heard it’s fun.”
He grinned at her, showing all his perfect teeth, “Can’t say I have,” he looked thoughtful, “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a fair.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips as he rounded the desk to stand by her, “It’s tomorrow. I might check it out.”
He towered over her in the best way, and she inhaled his spicy cologne. Why did her employer have to be so hot? He gazed down at her as if he was waiting for something clever to come out of her mouth, and she peered into his eyes, noticing a tinge of golden light around his brown irises.
“Why don’t we go together?” he suggested, his smooth timber going to all her lady bits.
Was he serious? She flushed, and he smirked. Why was he doing this? Was it because of Bentley? Brad! Shit, Brad! How rude would it be to show up with another man?
“I have a date,” she blurted, “I mean, to the festival. I’m sorry, Mr. Thistle.”
He smiled softly, “Don’t be. Maybe I’ll see you there. Goodnight, Clover.”
Again with the first name? She frowned in confusion as he walked out.
Clover washed the dishes before logging off then left the building, all the while imaging Mason and her, hand in hand eating churros and kissing the sugar off each other’s lips. She never daydreamed about her boss before. Had Mason questioned her for small talk or had he asked her out? Now she needed to text Brad, didn’t she? What if she showed up letting things progress naturally?
Yes, she decided later that night, nibbling on a frozen meal while a rerun of The Office played. She would just go for some Saturday entertainment and what happened, happened.
The next morning she researched the details on her laptop, seeing the festival was downtown in a business park, closed off for four blocks. It started at ten so took an unhurried shower, and since it was a warm day, she found a cute blue sleeveless top with white shorts that hugged her big butt. She dug out sandal wedges, then piled up her hair into a messy bun.
Clover text Aurora where she’d be in case the lazy woman wanted to keep her company. She wondered if she was still hooking up with Casey. She liked to milk a decent lay when she discovered one.
* * * * * *
Clover lucked out locating parking a few blocks away from the street fair. Joining the crowd, she pushed her sunglasses over her eyes. The weather was mild but sunny, perfect for scarfing down greasy food.
When she paid her way inside, her phone chimed.
Mr. Bright: Sorry I didn’t respond sooner, love. I hope you haven’t forgotten about me or suggesting we meet.
Clover smiled and sat down at a picnic table where a family fussed over a messy two-year-old. She glanced around, sighting a live mariachi band, rows of food trucks, and tables.
Mr. Bright: I’m free today. It’s a splendid day to have fun.
Clover: What if I said I was already outside enjoying the day?
Mr. Bright: I’d say I want to be there with you. Tell me when and where beautiful.
She bit her lip. This was the ideal setting for a meet and greet. She wanted this for weeks! What if Brad or Mason came, and they expected to join them? She pictured Mason being polite and walking away, but Brad invited her. What the hell, she didn’t owe either of those men anything, plus it was early. There was no harm in meeting Mr. Bright to see if he was her type or making up an excuse if not.
She messaged the address, spotted a booth filled with balloons, and told him she’d be carrying a yellow one near the beer garden. Bright text back he’d be there soon and her palms began to sweat.
Time to woman up.
As Clover stood awkwardly clutching the damn balloon, wished it wasn’t too early to drink. Sure, it hadn’t stopped others getting their buzz on at 11 AM, but she had to drive. Responsibility sucked sometimes.
Just then she watched a fine specimen of a man break through the throng. He had on boots, loose-fitting jeans, and a tight black shirt that stretched across his broad chest. Intricate tattoos wrapped up his left arm, she noticed when he neared. He looked like an MMA fighter with that cocky body. Her slow perusal reached his face, finding intense hazel eyes fixed on her. She peered over her shoulder nervously.
This couldn’t be Mr. Bright, could it? He was gorgeous!
His mouth crept upwards when he paused a few feet from her, “Clover?”
The balloon slipped through her fingers as she gaped at him. After an awkward beat, she found her voice, “Yes?”
He gave a deep sexy laugh, holding out a large paw, “Kyrell. Wow, you’re stunning, love.”
Clover heard a slight accent which turned her on even more. She shakily took his hand, and he brought it to his plump lips, kissing the back of it. Now she was practically drooling.
“Um, thank you,” she stammered, “I wasn’t expecting...” she waved at his massive frame, “All this.”
His laugh warmed her insides, “Ditto love. This is better than I deserve.”
He kept hold of her hand, pulling her close until she pressed against his rock-hard chest. Clover inhaled sharply, smelling his earthly scent mixed with want. His hazel eyes raked her body as if he couldn’t get his fill.
The spark she’d been waiting for wavered, although she melted under his intense ogling. Why did he join a dating site? Kyrell was sex on legs, certain women threw earlier fantasies aside when he strutted by.
“What should we do first?” he licked his lips.
She snapped out of her lust-filled fog, “Oh, um... tacos?”
With a firm grip, he pulled her towards the vendors, “Are you hungry? Let’s get you fed, then we can discuss why you’ve made me wait to see your angel face.”
Was he for real? Peeking at his determined features, a zing of desire coursed through her. Women double-took Kyrell as they grabbed food. He planted her at a single table, crowded her space, his body heat making her dizzy.
He watched her pick at the nachos, “Lost your appetite, Clover? Or are you greedy for something else?”
She swallowed, wishing his gorgeousness wasn’t nearly on top of her. She couldn’t think about anything other than grabbing those large limbs and climbing him like a tree. He smirked, sure they were on the same page.
Small talk, she reminded herself, first date conversation, and no hanky-panky.
“So Kyrell,” she leaned back, but he boxed her in by placing both of his arms on the chair and table, “Is Bright your last name?”
He stared at her mouth as if it held secrets, “Yes. You have such a lovely skin Clover,” she shuddered as he caressed her cheek, “I don’t believe a pretty lass as yourself can’t have any man she wants. It’s my lucky day.”
Then his soft lips met hers. She withheld a moan, remembering they weren’t alone. Was she seriously kissing a practical stranger within ten minutes of talking?
Kyrell’s tongue urged her to open, so she complied. He deepened the kiss so much she panted for breaths. His scruff kinda hurt, but she ignored the discomfort. On and on he tangled with her tongue, running it across her teeth so sensually her panties became soaked.
She jerked away, breathless, gasping up at his fierce expression. He looked like he wanted to undress her right there in front of everyone. Was this really happening?
“Fuck,” he growled, resting his mouth near her ear, “I want to taste every inch of your skin until all I have left is your cum on my tongue. Licking your pussy raw is my next goal in life.”
She shivered, “Good thing we’re in public then.”
He lifted his head with a smirk, “Will you come home with me, love? Or I could just take you behind a tent and finger that wet twat.”
Clover was in dangerous territory. His brutishness threw her off-kilter. She found him attractive but didn’t think he had much going on upstairs from their conversations online. Looks aside, he treated her fairly well for someone he expected to put out, and it pissed her off the longer she waffled.
What would Aurora do? The horny Phone Siren would already have this guy spent on her bed drinking Gatorade before round two.
She wasn’t Aurora though, so smirked in return whispering, “Kyrell, you’re bad.”
He kissed her neck, “You’ve no idea, love. None at all.”