Encounters (The Alpha Stranger) Book 1 Read Online Free
Author: C.T. Sloan
the office, I notice them all do a double take on my face. Damn, I think all the girls know I got fucked last night. The guys are none the wiser. Notice I use the term guys. Because that’s what they are. They are immature grown boys. None of them could rock my world like that dashing, masculine alpha stud that used my ass for target practice.
As the morning wears on, I begin to feel this strange sensation - I am getting horny. Oh wow. I have never been this turned on before! Every other minute, I’m thinking about my unknown lover’s broad chest, deep voice and flat stomach. He has become such an obsession that I find myself slow to answer the phones at my desk. I better keep my act together. The last thing I need to do is lose my job over a casual fuck buddy!
After lunch, I begin to watch the clock. I am hoping and praying that the handsome stranger has a new message for me. I want to meet him so bad. 2:00. 3:00. 4:00. When 5:00 rolls around, I begin to get really wound up. I pace around the reception lobby and start chewing gum like a smoker going through nicotine withdrawal. A few people start to leave the office. I would like to get the fuck out of here. Alas, my shift does not end until 6:00. When 5:50 rolls around, I am ready to dart out of the office.
“Carrie. Can you come with me?” the office manager asks.
Oh, what the hell?! Am I going to have to stay late? I follow my office manager to one of the conference rooms. As I walk inside the windowless room, my heart begins to sink. The company is having a new business presentation tomorrow morning and they need people to help set-up the presentation boards. It looks like I’m going to have to stay until at least 6:30. Drat!
6:45. I am finally released from the cruel confines of the windowless conference room. I dart to the elevators and head down to the parking garage. The long shadows cast by the downtown LA buildings tell me that I am leaving later than usual. Well, at least I am paid hourly. Those extra 45 minutes should help with the gas money. I get to level three and walk towards my Honda. As I make my way to my humble vehicle, I see a little piece of paper tucked under the driver’s side windshield! The mysterious stranger is back!
I run up to my car and open the note. “ 10 PM. Shutters on the Beach. Santa Monica. Be there. ” Damn right, I’ll be there. Shutters on the Beach is one of those ritzy hotels located right on the sand in Santa Monica. I may not know much about the stranger but I do suspect the man has cash. First the Chateau Marmont. Now Shutters on the Beach. Reservations like that don’t come cheap!
I then notice something else on the windshield, a key card. I look at the inscription on the card - Shutters on the Beach. Oh well, the handsome stranger is kind enough to get me a hotel key this time. Perhaps our relationship is getting a little more formal. Oh please. I get into my car and slap myself on the face. I have to remember that he isn’t my boyfriend. The last thing I need to do is delude myself into thinking that this is something more than it is - an anonymous booty call.
I drive home wondering what I will wear. A little black dress would seem a little, I don’t know, slutty to wear in a hotel like Shutters on the Beach. Maybe I’ll wear something in white. I have a cute white dress that I haven’t worn since my vacation in Cabo. Dammit. If Deb sees me leaving at 10 .m., she is going to bombard me with more questions. I certainly can’t tell her the truth. She will think I’m nuts. This is definitely one of the times I wish I could afford to live on my own.
***
Alright, it’s 9:30 p.m. Since I’m on the Westside of LA, getting to Santa Monica should only take me about twenty minutes. I study myself in the bathroom mirror. The white dress does look cute on me. As I turn around to check my ass out in the mirror, I hear a knock on the door.
“Are you almost done?”
As the morning wears on, I begin to feel this strange sensation - I am getting horny. Oh wow. I have never been this turned on before! Every other minute, I’m thinking about my unknown lover’s broad chest, deep voice and flat stomach. He has become such an obsession that I find myself slow to answer the phones at my desk. I better keep my act together. The last thing I need to do is lose my job over a casual fuck buddy!
After lunch, I begin to watch the clock. I am hoping and praying that the handsome stranger has a new message for me. I want to meet him so bad. 2:00. 3:00. 4:00. When 5:00 rolls around, I begin to get really wound up. I pace around the reception lobby and start chewing gum like a smoker going through nicotine withdrawal. A few people start to leave the office. I would like to get the fuck out of here. Alas, my shift does not end until 6:00. When 5:50 rolls around, I am ready to dart out of the office.
“Carrie. Can you come with me?” the office manager asks.
Oh, what the hell?! Am I going to have to stay late? I follow my office manager to one of the conference rooms. As I walk inside the windowless room, my heart begins to sink. The company is having a new business presentation tomorrow morning and they need people to help set-up the presentation boards. It looks like I’m going to have to stay until at least 6:30. Drat!
6:45. I am finally released from the cruel confines of the windowless conference room. I dart to the elevators and head down to the parking garage. The long shadows cast by the downtown LA buildings tell me that I am leaving later than usual. Well, at least I am paid hourly. Those extra 45 minutes should help with the gas money. I get to level three and walk towards my Honda. As I make my way to my humble vehicle, I see a little piece of paper tucked under the driver’s side windshield! The mysterious stranger is back!
I run up to my car and open the note. “ 10 PM. Shutters on the Beach. Santa Monica. Be there. ” Damn right, I’ll be there. Shutters on the Beach is one of those ritzy hotels located right on the sand in Santa Monica. I may not know much about the stranger but I do suspect the man has cash. First the Chateau Marmont. Now Shutters on the Beach. Reservations like that don’t come cheap!
I then notice something else on the windshield, a key card. I look at the inscription on the card - Shutters on the Beach. Oh well, the handsome stranger is kind enough to get me a hotel key this time. Perhaps our relationship is getting a little more formal. Oh please. I get into my car and slap myself on the face. I have to remember that he isn’t my boyfriend. The last thing I need to do is delude myself into thinking that this is something more than it is - an anonymous booty call.
I drive home wondering what I will wear. A little black dress would seem a little, I don’t know, slutty to wear in a hotel like Shutters on the Beach. Maybe I’ll wear something in white. I have a cute white dress that I haven’t worn since my vacation in Cabo. Dammit. If Deb sees me leaving at 10 .m., she is going to bombard me with more questions. I certainly can’t tell her the truth. She will think I’m nuts. This is definitely one of the times I wish I could afford to live on my own.
***
Alright, it’s 9:30 p.m. Since I’m on the Westside of LA, getting to Santa Monica should only take me about twenty minutes. I study myself in the bathroom mirror. The white dress does look cute on me. As I turn around to check my ass out in the mirror, I hear a knock on the door.
“Are you almost done?”
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