Cinderella Man

She wrapped a white, cotton towel around her body as she stepped out of the shower. Just as soon as her foot touched the cold tile, loud banging came at her hotel door. ’Who the hell…’ her thoughts trailed off as she left the bathroom.

With a hand on the door handle, she called out, “Who is it?”

“Santa,” the other end replied sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes, slowly opening the door. “It’s not Christmas yet, but if you brought me a present for being extra good I won’t decline it.”

Marshall stood there, staring. Her bronzed body was wrapped in a towel, leaving his eyes roaming her half naked body. “Damn,” he stated as drips of water slid down her perfectly sculpted legs.

“So, uh, where’s my present?” She wasn’t kidding. If he was going to play stupid and say he’s Santa, then he better cough up a present or two.

“In my pants,” he replied without skipping a beat. He leaned against the door fame, smirking while his eyes still danced up and down her body.

She shook her head, “I’ll pass on that one.”

Without warning, Marshall pushed her aside, letting himself in. “Why is it that whenever I hint at sex you change the subject?” He wanted to fuck her, bad. And he had a vague notion that she wanted him too. So, why did she just not give in. “Playing hard to get?” he guessed.

He backed her up against the wall, placing one hand on either side of her head. She brought one hand up and pushed against his chest while the other lingered on her towel. “No, you’re my boss. It’s against work ethics to have sex with you.”

“I won’t fire you if that’s what you’re worried about,” he brought his face closer, his breath hitting the skin of her neck. It sent shivers down her spine. “Hell, if you’re good enough, I might even promote you,” he added with a chuckle.

“You already know the answer to that,” she replied as she managed to slip out of his grip. Michael apparently made sure to inform the whole world about her status in bed.

Marshall sighed, leaning his forehead against the wall. His poor manhood could not take this teasing and playing hard to get much longer. Mentally, he was going through a scenario. She hadn’t moved, she was still standing in front of him. He brought his lips down to her neck, leaving gentle kisses until he found her spot. His hands pinned hers above her head as he continued to leave a trail of kisses down her chest. Slowly, he brought one hand down and, keeping the other still above her head, undid the towel.

“Marshall?” she asked again, irritated at the nonresponsive man before her. It was the third time she called his name.

He cleared his throat, turning around to face her. “Yeah?” He looked dumfounded.

“Why are you here?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans. “The boys wanna go out to the club tonight, celebrate or sum shit. You wanna come?” He smirked, quickly adding, “Cuz if you don’t you and I can stay and I can make you cum here.”

She blushed at his play on words. Only he would say something like that. “Party sounds good,” she replied.

He shrugged, “Your loss.” Though he would rather enjoy the night with her, he couldn’t make her have sex with him. Either way, there would be plenty of women at the club to relieve his stress.

She watched him as he left her room, making sure he completely shut the door. She didn’t want him to pop in while she was changing.

She quickly pulled out her suitcase, searching for an outfit. She smiled as her dream from two nights ago entered her conscious.

She was having dreams about fucking the man. So what was stopping her in reality? He looked like the type of guy that would fuck her hard for hours, but looks could be deceiving (as she too often found out). But that wasn’t the reason she didn’t want to have sex with him.

There was something about him she couldn’t shake off. His lame sexual advances, his failed attempts at humor, his smile – everything about him was so… refreshing. She had a small, tiny, little, microscopic crush on Marshall. A part of her was hoping there might be more, something could develop. She didn’t want to ruin it by having sex with him.

She laughed at her own thoughts. Surely Marshall would never think of her that way. There was nothing for her to ruin, so she might as well just give in. This chance, the chance to fuck Eminem, was once in a lifetime.

She pulled out her black, strapless, hugs-every-curve dress. It stopped just past her butt. It wasn’t trashy of you consider what other women wore to the club. It was more of an attention grabber – particularly to grab one man’s attention. Tonight would be the night.