Serena

Women encounter three types of men when walking alone. The first one is Mr. Creepy, no doubt he was voted most likely to be a serial killer in his high school yearbook. Mr. Indifferent is your best option, usually so lost in his own world that he doesn’t even realize his fly has been half open all day. Normally, he’s the one who is ready to help reach the cereal box on the top shelf in the grocery store, then there’s Mr. Polite who’s only polite because he’s trying to get into your pants.

Stepping out of the office for lunch, I had no inkling of the whirlwind that awaited me. Lost in the glow of my phone screen, tapping away at a message, I rounded the corner without a second thought. What I didn’t expect was slamming into a stranger and seeing my phone go flying onto the pavement.

“Take it easy, baby” As soon as he calls me “baby” I know it’s Mr. Creepy.

“It never fails,” I mumble to myself while crouching to grab my phone. It was so uncomfortable with them hovering over me, just staring with no attempts to help.

“Aye, where are you going in such a hurry?” he chuckles, falling right into step with me.

“I’m late, meeting my boyfriend.” I smile, the lie leaving my lips like the countless times before when men like him would harass me.

“Boyfriend? What kind of man lets a fine-ass woman like you walk alone, anyway?” can’t help but notice he says “Let.” Hoping for a quick exit, I remain silent, but his decision to walk beside me suggests he’s staying with me longer.

As I approached the outdoor grocery shop, my eyes landed on a man holding a bouquet. In hindsight, I probably should’ve assumed those flowers were for a special someone—a girlfriend, maybe, or a wife. At that moment, my sole focus was on getting away from this stranger’s relentlessness.

Seeing those flowers, I silently plead, “Please be Mr. Indifferent.” It was like a desperate prayer whispered into the chaos of the city streets.

Without hesitation, my hand instinctively found its way to his waist, instantly finding the firmness of his well-defined muscles. Surprised chestnut eyes locked onto mine, initially guarded but slowly melting into a fiery intensity. His gaze trailed down to my lips and back again, igniting a spark of anticipation that sent my nerves into overdrive.

In a barely audible whisper, I urge him, “Just go with it.” So, I just went for it, completely ignoring reason, and planted a kiss on a stranger to escape from another stranger.

In the beginning, his lips stayed stiff, surprised by my boldness. That innocent kiss turned into something way more thrilling and mind-blowing than I could have ever guessed. He is a great kisser, and he knows it by the way he draws me closer at the waist stealing my breath away by how he took complete control, devouring my mouth savoring every taste of me, taking full opportunity to explore every inch of my mouth.

I found myself completely lost in that stolen moment, forgetting the reason behind kissing this man. I was kissing a random stranger.

I catch the unhinged stranger still lurking in the shadows, watching the show. This individual reached a level of creepiness that was completely unparalleled, and I couldn’t shake the unnerving sensation crawling up my back. With a resigned sigh, he hands me the crushed flowers he’s been clutching at his side and moves me protectively behind him.

“We good?” His question cuts through the tension like a knife, devoid of any hint of friendliness. The stare-off between him and the stranger leaves me on edge, the realization sinking in that I’ve unwittingly involved a stranger in what potentially is a dangerous situation for both of us. The creep’s gaze flickers briefly at me before the stranger swiftly blocks his view.

“Yeah, man. We’re good,” I hear the defeated chuckle and the fading sound of grumbling footsteps as the creep finally slinks away.

Good riddance.

When his eyes meet mine, I feel a rush of warmth spreading through me, his gaze lingering on every curve and contour, as if seeing me for the first time. And in that moment, I take my time to truly see him too—his dark brown skin, the perfectly tapered beard framing his jawline, and those lips that had just moments ago been teaching me a thing or two about passion. Damn, this guy is fine.

“So,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my back, “now that we’ve had our moment, how about we get together for a drink?”

I hesitate. I don’t even know his name, and yet there’s an undeniable chemistry crackling between us. But before I can plan a response, he flashes me a playful grin, his tone teasing.

“Come on,” he says, leaning in closer, “after that kiss, I think you owe me at least one drink.”

His words catch me off guard, a playful challenge that ignites a spark of amusement within me. Despite my better judgment, I can’t help but smile at his audacity.

“I don’t think I owe you anything.”

He responds with a smirk. Despite my best efforts to resist, a jolt of electricity courses through me at his touch, leaving me feeling off balance.

“Mr. Polite,” I sigh, attempting to deflect my feelings, but he catches on, his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” he inquires, his curious expression and swift lick of his lips making my stomach flip.

“Nothing,” I hastily respond, trying to return the crushed flowers he had given me earlier. “Thank you for your help, but I should really be going.”

To my surprise, he stops me. “Keep them,” he whispers, his eyes holding mine. The way he looks at me has me grinning like I’m back in high school.

I hesitate for a second, feeling guilty for taking flowers from him after stealing a kiss. It’s not every day I get flowers, especially from a good-looking guy like him. So, I decided, why not? With the way my day is starting off, I might as well.

“It’s been nice meeting you,” I offer tentatively, trying to keep my tone light, “I appreciate the drink offer, but I’m not looking to date right now.”

He nods, his expression unreadable as he shrugs. “Name is Julian, and I get it, kiss and run,” he says casually, but his words hit me like a punch to the gut.

“No,” I reply firmly, my heart pounding in my chest, “just a gentleman helping a lady in distress.”

 “That kiss sure didn’t feel very ladylike,” he teases, his voice low and suggestive.

“Excuse me?” My jaw drops at his audacity.

He chuckles, a playful glint in his eye. “That was a sexy kiss from more than just a lady,” he says, leaving me speechless and more than a little tempted.

“If.” he tilts his head to the side and raises his brows expectantly at my words. “If we run into each other again, I’ll take you up on that drink.”

“I’ma hold you to that.” He’s giving me a final once-over with his eyes like he wants to capture every detail. I damn near got on all fours and purred right here and now for this man. My cat is purring for this man.

I respond with a teasing smile, though a part of me wonders if we’ll ever cross paths again.

As he hails a cab for me, I can’t help but feel a pang of regret. Maybe it would’ve been easier if we never met.

As I enter the cab, I give him one final glance, knowing that this will be the last time I lay eyes on him.

***

Strolling into the boardroom, I’m glad to be the first inside since lunch took longer than expected. Mrs. Brooks voice came from behind me. Being the CEO, she typically arrives at meetings early, so I’m surprised that I got here before her.

“Ah, there you are,” she exclaims, clasping my shoulder with an unexpectedly warm smile. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you before the meeting.”

I returns her smile, though a knot of unease twisted in my stomach. Her unusually cheerful attitude sparked my curiosity. Is her weird behavior a good thing for me or is it bad? Like, is she so excited because she is retiring and I’m being appointed the position or is this just nervous behavior because she’s about to screw me over and she’s nervous how I might react?

The thoughts alone are breaking me out into sweat. Leave it to me to have a mini panic over hypothetical scenarios.

I’ve worked so hard at this company and if I’m passed up for the position, I’m not sure I could continue much longer here. I helped build the company from the start, working with Mrs. Brooks in her garage.

“Everything’s going well, thank you,” I reply, quickly taking my seat, eager to hear what she had to say.

Before I could say anything else, her whole face lit up.

“Julien!” she exclaims, her voice breaking on the name. “I’m excited for you to meet my eldest son.”

I felt a surge of nervous energy and my heart skipped a beat when I heard the name. The prospect of meeting her son, combined with the possibility of her stepping down, added an unexpected layer of tension to the air.

And there he was, the stranger from the street, walking into the room like he owned the place, with a panty dropping smile on his face. My heart lurched in my chest as our eyes met, a rush of heat flooding my cheeks.

My mind raced, frantically searching for a plausible explanation for his presence. What the hell was he doing here?

Shit.

Thank you for reading, Look out of the completed full story to hit you soon.

Until next time Dreamers.