Leaving the building, I head around the corner to where I usually find a good selection of food trucks. I wander down the sidewalk, finally stopping at a colorful truck with the words El Azteca written across the side. Scanning their menu, I settle on two street tacos before walking up to the window to place my order.

  As I wait, I see Mr. Ramirez walking briskly down the street. I am certain he sees me, as I swear his eyes scan up and down my body before he walks past me without so much as making eye contact or saying a word.

  Probably thinking the chubby girl would be better off eating a salad.

  That’s generally what guys who look like him have to say about a thicker girl like me. Never mind the fact that I was a collegiate athlete and probably in better health than the tiny twigs they normally have on their arms.

  I shouldn’t judge him, at least not before I get to know him. But based on our brief interaction earlier, I’m pretty sure I can peg him to be just like every other uptight, pretentious asshole.

  Sitting on the edge of the fountain in front of Marcano Enterprises, I enjoy my lunch before scrolling aimlessly through social media on my phone. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I search for my new boss.

  Nothing.

  Scores of Andres Ramirez, but not one that looks like the attractive asshat that I met nearly an hour ago.

  What kind of weirdo doesn’t have any social media these days?

  Even my nana has Facebook!

  I don’t know why I’m looking him up anyway. It’s not like I’m going to friend him. And I’d die in the event I accidentally liked one of his photos while I doom-scrolled his page.

  A glimpse of Mr. Ramirez walking briskly past me catches my attention as he heads back into the building. Realizing the time, I toss my trash and quickly head into the building behind him. The doors to the elevator are closing as I approach, and I shout, “Hold the elevator, please.”

  My heels click down the hall as I race toward the elevator. Just as the doors are about to close in front of my face a large hand quickly presses between them. My eyes catch the glimpse of ink beneath the cuff of his sleeve as the doors slowly reopen.

  When they do, I am met with the dark eyes of my boss. His brow furrows and a deep voice grumbles, “Are you getting on or not?”

  Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath and step onto the elevator.

  Fuck, he smells good.

  five

  ANDRES

  Alexys’s arm brushes against mine as she steps onto the elevator, and my cock twitches at the mere thought of having her at my mercy as the doors slide shut. My eyes focus on the digital display above the door, and I breathe deeply with the passing of each floor. I try desperately to focus on anything but her, but I’m overwhelmed with her sweet, floral scent and the faint sounds of her light breathing.

  This might have been a bad fucking idea.

  A twist of fate put me in her presence a month ago. If it weren’t for an accident in Midtown putting me well behind schedule for a meeting I could not miss, I never would’ve taken the subway that day. I craved her from the first moment I saw her on the platform. Needed to have her as mine.

  I would have pursued her across the city but was pleasantly surprised when she walked through the front doors of my building and swiped an employee card at security. Discretely pushing myself onto the same elevator car as her, I followed her to the tenth floor and to her desk. I took note of the name plate on her desk as I walked past: Alexys Noble.

  A name suited for a queen.

  Mi reina.

  Needing to know more about her to know how to best approach her, I pulled her HR file and followed her day and night. What was supposed to be a few days of learning about her turned into a week. That week turned into two, with me needing more of her with each passing day.

  Glimpses of her throughout the day and following her home were no longer enough. I rapidly found myself watching her through the windows of her apartment. Some nights sneaking inside her bedroom and standing over her bed, watching her sleep. Or last night, standing on her fire escape with my cock in my fist revering at her physical perfection.

  Promoting her to my assistant and moving her up to the top floor was purely for selfish reasons. I needed to have her near me, to know where she was day and night. Only in my spiraling compulsion to have her, I didn’t stop to consider how difficult it would be to control myself in her presence.

  My brain and tongue are unable to put together even the simplest of hellos to her, while the need to command each and every inch of her body and mind consumes me. Even now, with three floors to go, my cock twitches in my pants as the idea of tearing her clothes from her body floods my thoughts.

  Ripping open her well-fitted white satin blouse, the buttons rattling to the floor around our feet. Pulling the lace of her bra from her breasts so that I can suck her tight nipple into my mouth while roughly kneading the other with my palm. Feeling her heavy breaths blowing over my face as she impatiently waits for more.

  My fists gripping the slit of her skirt, tearing it up the hem leaving her nearly bare before me. Lifting her against the wall, those thick legs of hers wrapping around my waist as I plunge my cock into her. Driving into her, my name trembling from her lips as I repeatedly bring her over the edge.

  The bell of the elevator dinging and the doors sliding open on our floor don’t deter me. I continue to thrust up into her, not giving a fuck who might see.

  “Mr. Ramirez?” Her soft voice and gentle hand grasping my bicep snap me out of my erotic daydream. Expelling a heavy breath, I turn my head toward her innocent voice. In return she nods her head toward the open doors in front of me.

  “Get settled at your desk and be in my office in thirty minutes,” the words leaving my mouth are unintentionally gruff before I storm off the elevator, leaving her behind. I briskly walk toward my office, my hard cock visibly tenting the front of my pants. The tip rubs against the fabric as I walk, making each step a painful reminder about how much I need to quickly relieve this tension.

  The moment I step into my office, I slam and lock the door. After drawing the blinds, I waste no time freeing my cock from its uncomfortable confines and begin fisting it as I walk toward my desk. Pulling open a drawer and grabbing her HR file, I continue to work my length as I pull her employee photo from the folder.

  Those hazelly-blue eyes of hers are so fucking mesmerizing, it’s almost as though I can feel her staring back at me from the photo. My fingers trace along her jaw as I roughly fuck my hand, the calloused skin of my palm a poor substitution for the soft, slick cunt I want to bury myself in.

  A cunt I intend to lose myself inside of very soon.

  …but not soon enough.

  My breaths are short and shallow, as I rapidly approach my release. Standing from behind my desk, I continue to fist myself over her photo. Precum drips from my tip and lands on the beautiful face laying beneath me.

  “Fuck, mi reina,” I groan as my fingers smear it over the photo. “You’d be fucking gorgeous wearing nothing but my cum.”

  A roar rattles from my lungs, my hips sputter violently, and ribbons of cum splatter across her photo. Fisting myself slowly, I rub my tip through cum until her face is covered in it.

  “So fucking gorgeous,” the words are slow and gravelly as I tuck my cock back into my pants, my eyes not once leaving the work of art on my desk. “I’m going to fucking bathe you in my cum.”

  With my stance still wide and my palms planted on my desk, flanking her photo, I continue to stare into the brilliance of her eyes. My cum spilled across the image begins to dry and flake along the edges. A smile creeps across my face as I pull open my desk drawer and place the photo on top of the other papers.

  Mi reina…

  six

  ALEXYS

  That has to be the most awkward fucking meeting I have ever sat through.

  Four hours of Mr. Ramirez explaining in detail the duties and expectations of my new position. Four grueling hours where he practically refused to look at me, and when he did, he couldn’t seem to get his eyes off me fast enough.

  Apparently, girls like me are absolutely repulsive to him.

  Walking from his office, I immediately rethink my shotgun decision of taking this position. I should’ve asked more questions instead of being overwhelmed by the glaring salary difference being dangled in front of my face.

  Who in their right mind turns down a forty-thousand dollar-a-year pay raise to basically do the exact same job?

  It could be worse. Instead of being an anti-social douche-canoe, he could be a handsy asshole. Or a yeller. Or like that guy at the publishing company.

  Reaching under my desk, I grab my purse. Taking a quick glance at the time on my cell phone as I lift it from my desk, I throw it in my purse and begin my brisk walk to the subway. Relief washes over me when I make it to the platform in time to catch the train. Taking a seat as the doors close, I pull out my buzzing cell phone.

  KYLE

  Are we still on for tonight

  Yes. Still meeting you at 7?

  You sure you’re okay with The Taqueria?

  For the 100th time, definitely. I am down for some tacos and margaritas!

  See you soon then beautiful.

  Usually dates with a new guy make me nervous as hell, but not Kyle. We talked for weeks before our first date. And we’ve texted and chatted with each other since, leading up to our second date tonight. He doesn’t exactly make my heart flutter, and the short kiss at the end of our first date was definitely underwhelming. But, he’s sweet, compliments me constantly, and he just seems like a good guy. After a long, never-ending string of assholes, a good guy seems like a nice change of pace.

  By the time I walk from the subway station to my apartment, I realize that I don’t have enough time to do much more than change and freshen up. Digging through my closet, I quickly find and change into a blush-colored, lacy body suit, a pair of dark, ripped skinny jeans, and a thigh-length black blazer. After taking a quick glance in the mirror, I opt for a pair of black, heeled booties before rushing out the door to the Uber impatiently waiting for me downstairs.

  My phone dings from inside my purse as I climb into the backseat of the Uber.

  UNKNOWN

  You look fucking magnificent.

  Figuring it’s a wrong number, I delete the text and drop my phone back into my bag.

  Way too good for him.

  And I don’t like you dating other men mi reina.

  “Mi reina,” I inquisitively read the words out loud.

  “My queen?” the driver says, his tone clearly inflicting his level of confusion.

  “Sorry,” I sputter, “I was reading.”

  I’m sorry but you have the wrong number

  No I don’t

  Kyle doesn’t deserve to be in the presence of a woman as gorgeous as you

  My heart thumps in my chest, I haven’t told anyone Kyle’s name yet. As far as my friends know, he’s just some guy I met on some dating app.

  Who is this?

  Soon. I’ve been patient. Now it’s your turn.

  I recommend you call off this date before someone gets hurt.

  I don’t know who this is, but this isn’t funny.

  I shove my phone back into my purse as the car pulls up to the curb outside the little Mexican restaurant. While I’m certain it’s just someone playing a prank, I can’t seem to shake the unease from our brief interaction.

  “You okay?” Kyle immediately approaches me as I cross the sidewalk. He throws his arm around my shoulder and places a dry peck on my cheek. As he pulls away, I feel my phone buzz through my purse. “You don’t look okay.”

  “Just a long day,” I lie, “First day at my new position. Probably just need a margarita to unwind a little.”

  “Say no more,” he opens the door, and we are promptly led to our table by the hostess. We are seated at a small table, and he takes the seat next to me. The moment the waiter approaches, he orders two margarita flights. My phone buzzes again, and I briefly apologize before pulling it from my purse.

  His lips don’t deserve to touch an inch of your perfect skin

  Make sure he knows it doesn’t happen again

  “Just work,” I lie to Kyle again before placing the phone on the table. It should go back in my bag. I should ignore whoever it is on the other end, but against my better judgment I am intrigued.

  Dinner and drinks are relatively uneventful. The conversation is dull, excluding an occasional dad joke or compliment from Kyle. My eyes repeatedly dart to my phone, waiting for another message. Kyle ramps up his compliments and attempts at sweet talk as he places his hand on my thigh, “We shouldn’t wait a week to do this again.”

  Buzz. Buzz.

  “I really enjoy spending time with you,” his fingers tentatively rub along my thigh.

  Buzz. Buzz.

  “I’m so sorry,” I divert my attention from him and pick up my phone.

  Tell him to get his fucking hand off your thigh

  An involuntary gasp passes over my lips. I place my phone back on the table and turn my attention back to Kyle, “What do you have in mind?”

  Buzz. Buzz.

  If he doesn’t remove his hand, I intend to remove it from his fucking arm

  Okay tough guy. I’ve had enough of this.

  I send the text and turn off my phone before I drop it into my bag.

  Leaving his hand on my thigh, Kyle continues to talk about another date. After going over a few ideas he has for our next date, he excuses himself to the restroom. While he is an unbelievably nice and good guy, I think I just figured out why the run of assholes happened.

  They are much more fun.

  seven

  ANDRES

  The eagerness at which she prepares for her date fucking infuriates me, but not nearly as much as Kyle has by blowing off my demanding threats to leave her alone.

  She’s so fucking gorgeous!

  I can’t pull my eyes off her as she walks down the steps of her apartment building. While I know I shouldn’t, and I’ve managed to control my urge thus far, I pull the burner phone from my pocket and text her.

  You look fucking magnificent.

  Her Uber pulls from the curb, and I immediately pull behind it, quickly placing a few cars between us, not that she has given any indication she knows I’m watching her.

  When she doesn’t respond, I text again.

  Way too good for him

  And I don’t like you dating other men mi reina.

  I can’t stop myself from smiling when notification of her reply pops up on the car’s dash.

  ALEXYS

  I’m sorry but you have the wrong number

  No I don’t

  Kyle doesn’t deserve to be in the presence of a woman as gorgeous as you

  My only regret at the moment is not being able to see her face as she puts the pieces together.

  Who is this?

  Soon. I’ve been patient. Now it’s your turn.

  I recommend you call of this date before someone gets hurt.

  I don’t know who this is, but this isn’t funny

  It’s not supposed to be funny, mi reina.

  Her Uber pulls to the curb, and I drive past, parking a few vehicles up the road. The moment I park, I adjust the mirror to watch her. An angry growl rattles from me as I watch him place his hands and lips on her. My fingers immediately key my displeasure into my phone.

  His lips don’t deserve to touch an inch of your perfect skin.

  Make sure he knows it doesn’t happen again.

  Climbing from my car, I slam the door and pull on a baseball cap before following the two of them inside. After seeing where they are seated, I opt to take a seat at the bar with a good vantage point of them.

  Her boredom is written across her face throughout their dinner, and it is apparent that her attention is on me. I watch her eyes repeatedly dart to the phone lying on the table, waiting to hear more from me.

  Mi reina, so needy for me.

  Likely fueled with courage from his mini-margaritas, Kyle leans closer and places his hand on her thigh. Rage floods me, and I feel as though my blood is on fire.

  Tell him to get his fucking hand off your thigh.

  Alexys reads my text and her eyes dart around the restaurant looking for the sender. Fixing my attention to the television above the bar, I ensure she can’t see my face. When I do look back at them, she has placed the phone on the table and has allowed him to creep his hand further up her thigh.

  Up my thigh…

  If he doesn’t remove his hand, I intend to remove it from his fucking arm.

  I can feel the skin of my face heating with my rage as she drops her phone into her purse as a message pops up on my phone.

  Okay tough guy, I’ve had enough of this.

  No, I’ve had enough of this.