Page 29 of Secret Twins for the Orc

I need to grip my fingers around her again, feel the way her soft flesh molds beneath my touch. I’m becoming obsessed with Ella Davis, and it just keeps getting worse.

I didn’t come into the office yesterday, deciding to shove a bunch of meetings into the same day for reasons only involving efficiency, and having absolutely nothing to do with a certain blue-eyed, chocolate-haired beauty that works for me, whose lips are so soft you wouldn’t expect that they could exert such delicious pressure when she did that thing with her tongue—

I clench my fists, clench my jaw, clench my whole body, in an attempt to brute-force the stray memory of our night two years ago out of my head, as I stalk across our co-working office space and power towards my private office.

Stop. This is beyond pathetic.

But then the object of my desires smacks clean into my chest in a scatter of blueprints and papers through the air, and we both freeze and very deliberately do notlook at each other as they settle to the floor around us.

Once more my fists clench, and then slowly release.

I kneel and begin picking up the spilled papers, staring only at the mess and thinking of nothing else but the mess, and certainly not remembering what happened between us the last time I dropped to my knees before her.

“Clumsy,” I mutter under my breath, and she follows suit and begins picking up the papers.

“It’s fine,” she says back quietly, uncertainly. “You didn’t mean to.”

My eyes shoot towards her. “I was talking about you.”

“Me? You’re the one barreling through the office without watching where you’re going.”

“I’m an orc. I’m three times your size, how on earth did you not see me coming?”

She rolls her eyes and shuffles a stack of papers to fit more neatly between her grip. “You’re right, when the Hulk comes smashing through an innocent office space, I should pay more attention for the sake of my safety.”

I snort as I grab the last of the blueprints. “You’ve got some energy to you this morning. I assume you’ve been eating a proper dinner like a good girl?”

Her lips part, her eyes narrow, and she jumps suddenly up and away from me. I follow more sedately and hold my bundle toward her.

“You’d better watch your words with me, sir,” she huffs, her chin tilting and her eyes blazing with challenge, with heat…but without any animosity. “Or else I might just start acting pleasant.”

Oh, so we’re using our words at dinner against each other now, are we? I scoff. “Pleasant? You? I doubt you have the ability.”

She snatches the blueprints from my grasp and turns away, muttering, “You wouldn’t know pleasant if it bit you in your grumpy ass.”

I continue towards my office without looking back, pretending I didn’t hear her, or the responding stage-whisper from one of the other workers. “You need to stop fighting with him, you’re going to lose your job!”

I click my office door shut, and the smirk I’d been fighting blooms across my lips.

But by the time I make it to my desk, it’s faded once more. Especially as I notice the pleasant buzz coursing through me, as if I’d been flirting instead of fighting.

This is exactly the kind of interaction I should be avoiding.

When my phone buzzes in my pocket I’m glad for the distraction, and I click to receive the call at the same time that I register my mother’s caller ID flashing across my screen. I cringe, and then bring the phone to my ear.

“Hi,” I mutter.

“Good morning, darling! It’s so nice to hear your voice after so long,” she says, all pleasant attitude and deliberate digs. “You know, since you didn’t answer the last three times I called. Or bothered to call me back.”

I can practically hearher raising her eyebrow, and I rub at my temple. “I hear you, Mom. Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I assume you’ve been busy with your new project. I just miss you, I don’t mean to nag.”

My chest warms, and my traces of irritation settle. “Have you been well?”

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine here with your father. His limp is mostly gone now after that fall down the stairs, he’s practically good as new.”

I glance at my watch, and then immediately feel guilty at my desire to end the conversation already. “That’s good to hear. Is he home now?”

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