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hope this kind of meets your expectations and I didn't butcher the characters too much '_____';;;;
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The first time I saw him...well, the first time I saw him I was sitting at the conference table, staring out that enormous window not because of the view -don't get me wrong, the view is great -but I was looking at my reflection. I was sitting there thinking, "Edward Dillinger Junior, what have you done with your life? Sure, you're brilliant and criminally good looking, not to mention on the fast track to a career so many would die for -but are you living The Dream? Are you living YOUR Dream?" And then I saw him. I saw that gorgeous Greek-bust of a face overlapping my reflection.
And it struck me like lightning.
When Sam Flynn -God knows why he was rock climbing down the side of the building -but when Sam Flynn and I met eyes, that slightly surprised, curious look on his face for a split second before he winked-
The first time I saw him I knew I had to have him.
And I did. I mean, c'mon just look at me, who wouldn't want a piece of this? The second time I saw him he was wandering down the hall, casually. He recognized me, I could see that.
So I dragged him into the men's room and pushed him up the wall. I think he liked it.
And from then on there were...meetings. In the office, the closet, empty conference rooms, and I think one time he tackled me in the parking lot while I was leaving and we just did it right there, over the hood of my Benz, that sexy motherfucker.
But each time -each time we met, each time we were done -he'd just flash me that gorgeous smile of his and leave. We never talked. I mean, I wasn't expecting confessions of love or some heartfelt, romantic lets-talk-about-our-feelings thing, but not even a "call me"? Ouch.
Come to think of it, I didn't even have his numbe-
"Dillinger!"
Oh, right. The meeting. I guess I must've dazed- I mean, what? I'm totally paying attention to this conference. Let me just wow him with my brilliance.
"The quarterlies are stable, I don't think we have a problem there. What we SHOULD really focus on is trying to expand the-"
And then it hit me. I DO want to have heartfelt, romantic lets-talk-about-our-feelings, warm confessions of love. I want to hold his hand and take nice, slow walks to my car and fuck his brains out. I want to take him to dinner and convince him not to wear any underwear so we can risk getting thrown out of restaurants for -ahem -hogging the restrooms. I want to take him home, so we can make love -yes, make love -in my king-sized bed, on those amazing thread-count sheets, and then proceed to move to the living room and do it on the couch, in the kitchen, the study, the bathroom, in the shower. And I wanted him to stay the night. I wanted to wake up with him in my arms.
I was in love with Sam Flynn.
Afterwards, I knew what I had to do. Now, like I said, I didn't have his number, so I had to wait around for him. Lucky I knew all his usual hang-around spots, like the lab when no one was supposed to be there, or the underground parking lot where we'd meet sometimes. It was just that I couldn't be exactly sure because we didnt meet everyda- no, I mean. True love will guide me to him, I was sure of it. Which was why I wasn't relieved -wasn't surprised at all, just happy -when I saw him leaning against that bike of his.
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