Mr. Sexy, Book 1, The Hardcore Series

Sexy - Chapter 1

Live Oak, AL

April 5, 2009

The belt moves and my items slide to the cashier. The little old lady in front of me smiles sweetly and apologizes for taking so long.

Instantly, my impatient mood changes. It is not that big a deal to be a few minutes late. Mrs. Smith, my landlord, will not be upset.

I nod, "God bless you too, ma'am."

Once in my car, I hit the gas to make up the lost time on the highway. The speed relaxes me. I turn on my tunes, and Pharrell Williams sings "Happy." My hands begin tapping the steering wheel as I rehearse the video in my mind.

I can't wait to tell Cat I intend to do "Happy" for my return performance. She will come unglued.

Once I work out details of breaking my lease with Mrs. Smith this morning, I will be able to set a return date. The thought of seeing my team again puts a smile on my face.

Parking and grabbing my bags, I hurry. I have just enough time to put my groceries away and get back down to Mrs. Smith's office on time.

At the door, I turn my back to push it open and notice a badass truck in the visitor's spot. A Tuxedo Black Metallic Ford F-150 SVT Raptor Special Edition.

Ooo, what a sweet ride! A real 'man' truck. I wonder if a badass drives it? I laugh. Probably not. Probably just a want to be, but hey, at least he has good taste.

Rushing through the lobby to the elevator, I glance toward the office and see Mrs. Smith talking to a young man.

In my line of work, sizing men up is part of the job. My instant impression is stud! He looks to be my age, athletically built, 6' tall plus or minus. He is wearing a pale-blue shirt with distressed blue jeans and could go over 200 pounds depending on his muscle mass.

In the elevator, I whip around to hone in on the man-target. He has a military style haircut that's buzzed on the sides with dark roots, but the top is long, thick, 'dirty blonde' hair streaked with natural sun highlights. It is sleek and moving gently as he talks.

As I press #9, Mrs. Smith looks around him and waves. He turns to look too as the doors begin to close.

My breath catches in my throat.

My heart stops beating.

Golden tan skin.

Perfectly symmetrical features.

Dark hawkish brows.

But it's his piercing light eyes that rock me to my core.

He is beautiful!

The doors close.

My heart jolts back to reality.

I gasp, "Sweet Zeus! What just happened?"

My hand touches my pounding heart and I feel the wild chaos inside. "Fuck, he is fine!"

I laugh at my own response. "Woo! That look!"

The elevator stops on my floor and I sprint to my apartment, 9A, at the end.

Stuffing my grocery bags in the refrigerator, I rush right back out, hoping to get back down to the lobby before the stud leaves.

Pressing the down button, I wait impatiently. As soon as the doors begin to open, I slip through the gap, and push the close door button twice to force the doors closed.

I ride down standing in front of the gap, ready to exit as soon as there is enough space.

Just when the elevator bounces to a stop, the phone alarm I set the day before and forgot to turn off blasts the confined space with "When I Grow Up" by The Pussycat Dolls.

"Shit!"

As the doors slide open, I stretch my torso and shove my hand deep into my front pocket. Trying to pull it out as I step through the gap proves to be a mistake. I stub my toe and stumble, snatching the phone clear of my pocket, and losing my grip on it.

As it sails away with the song blasting the entire lobby, I stagger and flail until I regain my footing. Somehow managing not to bust my ass.

I walk to my phone and bend over to pick it up. As my fingers grasp it, the weight of my thick mane shifts, and the clip that tamed its mass slips. Reaching up, I release it, and my long hair engulfs my face.

Out of habit, I flip it up and over my head as I roll up with the flare of the stripper I am.

The song is almost over when I finally turn the music off.

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Everyone knows I am all grown up."