31 || Must Date The Chef (VI)

Paul didn’t ask for my number. I didn’t ask for his. But we have a date. Today. This evening. 

How do we communicate? I have no idea. 

Two days since he fingered me in my car and my body hasn’t stopped playing images of that scene. I have orgasmed multiple times from the image alone. Did I ever come that fast with Edwin? I can’t remember. Our sex life was mostly dormant due to his hectic schedule. 

I tap on my keyboard and the laptop screen comes alive. One hour until my meeting with potential investors. My eyes soak in all the necessary details required to win a proposal, I pen down a few things and continue skimming. 

 A knock on the door forces my head up. The next thing I do is survey my office. Everything is intact. Table, couch, mini fridge. Intact. 

“Come in,” I say, tucking the pen into its holder. The door opens but no one steps in. I stand. Might be the investors. One glance at my outfit—chiffon top tuck