Chapter Thirty-One: Thursday at Work — Owen’s New Sparks
287 Words
Owen leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against the edge of the desk, pretending to give half a s**t about the spreadsheet blinking in front of him.
He wasn't fooling anyone.
Especially not himself.
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His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out lazily, already expecting another worthless work email — and froze.
Keeley.
Photo attached.
He thumbed it open without hesitation.
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A shot of her bare thighs spread wide across rumpled sheets.
One hand between them, glistening. A teasing hint of her fingers slipping lower, just out of frame.
> "Can't stop thinking about you, bad boy. You’re still in my mouth."
Owen felt his c**k stir immediately — fast, heavy, aching.
He adjusted his pants under the desk with an annoyed grunt.
Jesus.
He was at work.
And now he was rock f*****g hard.
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He smirked to himself — lazy, slow — and flipped open his contacts.
Scrolled.
Stopped at a number he hadn't thought about in a few days.
Jessica. Hardware store girl. Fresh. Bright-eyed. Eager.
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He thumbed out a message:
> "Hey, it’s Owen — the tall guy from the store. Still rescuing cake mix damsels?"
He hit send without overthinking it. Sipped his shitty coffee. Waited.
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Ping.
It came back almost immediately.
Jessica.
> "Haha hey you! You’re seriously the highlight of my shopping trip. How’s your day going?"
Owen chuckled under his breath.
Easy.
He felt a rush of something hot and nasty unfurling in his gut — the thrill of new territory.
Fresh meat.
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He texted back:
> "Better now. You free this weekend?"
Another fast reply.
> "Maybe… depends. You asking me to rescue you this time?"
Owen’s grin widened.
- Writer
