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Usually, Deja’s fantasies about Alejandro veered on the side of raunchy, but the domesticity of a man showing up at her office dressed like he’d just stepped out of a fancy watch advertisement with a cup of coffee for her? This was a whole new dimension of her erotic fantasies.
No man should be this charming and smart and dress so well.
They read the menu together as he whispered his favorite dishes to her as if they were a love poem, his right hand resting on her thigh.
“Fuck, he’s perfect,” she breathed. “I’m really not,” he called from the hallway with a laugh. “You heard that?” “These walls are thin as fuck.”
Alejandro didn’t believe in working through the weekends. Ever.
Amen
